Father's Day

A special Tribute to Dad's from Funny or Die.

A Fathers Day Salute - watch more funny videos

For more fun, visit Trooper at Dogs and Jeans.

Explaining Bad Things

My 11-year-old daughter lives a plane ride away. She visited me over the Christmas holidays and we had an amazing time. During her visit, there was an attempted terrorist attack on an airplane that was flying into Detroit. It was extremely difficult attempting to explain how the world had changed in just a few days.

We watched a bit of the news about the event and I tried to explain just what had happened. I tried to explain how carry-on luggage rules had changed because of what this man had done. I tried to explain how her plane was safe because it was just a short plane ride and terrorists normally target larger planes (probably not the best explanation in the world, but I didn’t really know what else to say at the time).

So the question I have is…What should I have said to her?

And it doesn’t stop there. How do you explain the earthquake in Haiti? I mean, you can explain the science of earthquakes and explain that many people but how can you adequately explain the devastation and horror and death? Maybe the question is: should you?

One of the responsibilities of being a parent, especially in a world where EVERYTHING is at a child’s fingertips, is attempting to put all things into a certain frame of reference so that they understand. The real difficulty, I think, is trying to find a happy medium between scaring the crap out of them and making them immune to the world around them.

How do you explain a crazy person who shoots up a military base in Texas? How do you explain the war in Afghanistan? How do you explain how bad the economy is and how people are losing their jobs on a daily basis? How do you explain the situation with NBC, Jay Leno, and Conan O’Brien?

Okay…scratch that last one.

Seriously, though…what do you do to explain the bad things that go on in the world to your children?

Where's my AARP membership?

It's official folks - I am now that guy.

It's not like I purposely set out to be that guy. It wasn't my life long dream to become that guy. I actually tried my best to avoid becoming THAT guy.

It just sorta happened. Ya know, outta my control.

You see one minute I am a cool, with-it, got it going on, hot dad. I can roll with the punches and hang with the best of them. Then the next thing ya know, I am calling the cops on my nextdoor neighbors to shut down their Halloween festivities.

I have become THAT guy.

Was it that the my darling 17 month old could not sleep? Not in the least bitl. She was dead to the world enjoying her dreams of ponies and princesses or whatever else captivates a 17 month old's brain. She could have cared less that a bunch of twenty somethings were raging next door. She was clueless.

It was me.

I was the one annoyed. It had been a long week full of meetings, deadlines, colds and problems. I wanted to sleep but the music and rumble of laughter and fun was keeping me from getting my beauty rest.

So I did it.

That's right. I did it. I called 311, they patched me to 911 and I called the cops. I played the Grinch that tried to steal Halloween.

Now I am THAT GUY. And all I feel is old. Guess it's time for my AARP membership?

I’ve Got a Plan

I love my dad, I really do. When I was growing up, he was a workaholic. Hell...he’s STILL a workaholic and he’s in his early 60’s so I guess some things don’t change. He’s never been the most open with his feelings, which is probably why I’m a bit closer to my mom.

My dad enjoyed an emotional distance. I don’t blame him...I think that’s just how a lot of us were raised back in the 70’s (or maybe I’m just providing an excuse for him). My dad never really threw the ball around much with me. Hell...he doesn’t like sports so I didn’t grow up watching anything with him (unless I wanted to waste time watching curling). My dad can build pretty much anything he wants, yet he never taught me how to hammer a nail. My dad loves to go camping, yet other than my grandfather taking me as a young boy, I never learned how to put a worm on a hook or make s’mores by a campfire.

My son recently turned three. This boy is the light of my life. At this point, where I’ve been separated for 2 ½ years and my girlfriend lives 3 hours away, I’ve already made conscious efforts to not only spend time with him as he grows up but to spend quality time with him.

Now maybe my version of quality doesn’t necessarily jive with everybody else’s...but I don’t care. I want to spend Sundays with him watching football from 12pm to 12am (okay...maybe he’ll be in bed before that but I’ll totally let him stay up late as he gets older). I want to throw a baseball with him (or football) and help him learn how to catch. I want to do a “fist pump” with him so we have our own secret handshake.

Bottom line? I want to be the dad that my son WANTS to come and visit. I want him to grow up saying, “Man...I remember how much fun it was to watch football with pops; eating pizza and chicken wings and getting excited about every little play.” I want him to reminisce about spending a Saturday night with me watching Hockey Night in Canada (and I’m not even a big fan of hockey).

This isn’t about one-off’s, either. My dad took me to see the local hockey team maybe once or twice in my entire lifetime. He took me to see wrestling once when I turned 16. We did sporadic things together, and that’s fine (again...I love the guy and really don’t want to hold any resentment or sound like I do, either). But in my eyes, it’s extremely important to set-up trends and regular occurrences.

My boss at work has season tickets to the local hockey team. He’s got three kids. He can’t afford five season tickets (including his wife) so he rotates everybody on who gets to go, with the occasional family night with all five going together. His children know that no matter what else happens in their childhood, their father’s great joy was to watch hockey with them on a regular basis (or coach them in basketball, or watch them play soccer...).

It’s not even about sports, either. I can’t wait to help educate my son on music. ALL music. See, I’m a former DJ...both on college radio and in the clubs while in my 20’s. My parents raised me on country music before I gravitated to rock as a young child (thank goodness). I can still, to this day, fully appreciate all forms of music. A good song is a good song, whether it’s country or rock or dance or cheesy pop. I think too many kids close their ears to the world of music that’s out there around them. I’m really hoping that my son can at least appreciate other forms of music, regardless of what his favourite may or may not be.

This is my plan, anyway. It’s not perfect...it’s not really specific. It could totally backfire if my son would rather watch Broadway musicals than Monday Night Football. That’s alright, though...I’ll love him completely anyway and have to start seeing if Wal-Mart has a “Broadway musical dvd” section. As long as I make it a regular event that he’ll always remember, that’s all that really matters to me.

I think my dad might have taken our relationship for granted. I have no plans on doing the same thing with my son. I’ve got a plan.

****

Canadian Bald Guy is just a thirty-something single dad who is trying to find his place in the world…no more, no less. You can check out his regular ramblings at I Used To Have Hair.

The Lava Spews - All Over The Place

As the temperatures around the country are cooling off and Fall is in full effect, I thought it a good time to spread some more hotness throughout the nation.

I knew that I would not have much time to scout for more hotties, as Halloween, Turkey Day and Christmas are all just right around the corner, so I have spent the past week trolling.

You’ll all be happy to know that my search was so successful that this blog is slowly turning into quite the lava pit.

So, without further ado….I’d like to present you all with our newest Hot Mamas!!!!!!!


UberDorkGirlie of Life in Monkeyland
Faerie Mom of TheFaerieCastle
VodkaMom at VodkaMom

I highly recommend that you jump over there and show them some love…as they will be visiting all of you to do the same!

Lastly folks, We’ve had a bit of a shift in contributors here at Hot Dads.
A few of the boys were not able to fit extracurricular blogging into their busy lives and had to step back (for now) and we have also added some new testosterone to the mix.

Please bow and welcome:
Surfer Jay from I have to wipe their what?
CanadianBaldGuy
and
Mocha Dad

My Brady Bunch Family and My Insanity

Even after not having seen most of them for a number of years, the reunion made me feel a bit uneasy. I felt a bit distant and unconnected to them. The smiles and pleasantries floated back and forth like leaves in a mini wind storm. I, unintentionally, felt fake. I should be happier and more involved. I just wanted to do my own thing and not participate in the group activities.

In a sad sort of way I feel more a part of my other family. I’d nod and chime in with blank and unenthused looks during conversations with my mother. Am I an ass hole? Can I only ‘connect’ with one family at a time?

Although I grew up with 5 of the 11 people there, I felt as though I really had nothing to talk about…with the exception of a few childhood stories that we all laughed about.

The fun part for me was when Mariah and I sat around the campfire with my sister, her fiancée and my brother…drinking beer and wine, taunting the never ending stream of bears that wandered the campground, reflecting on our childhoods and, well…there was also a thing with the lake, a canoe, drinks and attempted fishing.

I don’t really know what it is…besides being ‘related’ I just did not feel that I have anything in common with the rest of my family. They are all loving and caring people…and I love them as they are my family, but …something was missing.

Maybe it has something to do with Mariah and her family. They are all very close and visit and talk to one another all the time…unlike my family. Maybe I am seeing Mariah’s family as normal and mine as …abnormal. Shit …that makes me sound like such an ass.

All in all…the bottom line (and why I wrote this) is …I want to connect. I want to feel ‘part of.’ I want to see my family as normal…It just did not click…and I don’t like it.

I Am Indeed A Violin

"She'll pull you out on the river - she's gussied up like sin,
You got jack all squat - you're a violin
And you're gonna get played until the money's all gone
Dearly beloved, the fix is on..."

- "The Fix Is On" by Peter Mulvey, from the album The Knuckleball Suite

Yes, it's true, no matter how much I try to deny it.

I am a violin.

How do I know this? My daughter is a master violinist, and doesn't really know it yet. She plays me like nobody can, I'm powerless to stop it. It's like I'm Superman (don't laugh, please) and she is like this three and a half foot tall, almost five-year old block of kryptonite that has legs and can wheedle better than God.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm almost ten times older than her, I'm bigger/stronger/faster than her. I am adult with a job and rent and I can vote and drink beer anytime I want and drive* anywhere anytime...yet, somehow I can't resist the force of nature that is my Wee Lass.

I could say its because I just can't stand to hear whining, in any way shape or form. Especially that dentist-drill-in-the-form-of-a-kids-voice that so many of the kiddies are able to inflict on the world**. I could say its because the little kids are cute-cuddly-the-future-of-the-humna-race-blah-blah-blah...I could even say its because I am just a weenie who cannot muster the cojones to say no, just because I am the dad and I said so. And these are significant reasons why I am a violin.

But...the real reason is...I look at my daughter and she looks back at me with those impossibly beautiful eyes of hers and she smiles or does the "Happy Dance" and I say something that makes her laugh, and ohmygawd that laugh, that laugh can launch ships and cure the sick and it makes me want fall to my knees and kiss her feet because, because, because...

...she's my big pretty girl and I am dumbstruck***, in awe, totally flummoxed and grateful that I can be in her presence and know that I had something to do with bringing her into the world.

And that makes me a truly lucky man.

Happy Father's Day, to all the dads out there. Let us bow our heads and give thanks!

*But not when I've been drinking. That would be balls up stupid. Don't do it.

**Of course, that's why we have earphones. And beer.

***Some would just say "dumb" and leave it at that. Sigh.

For further proof that my name should probably be "Stradivarius", please check out more Wee Lass chronicles here and here. You'll see what I mean!

The Unsung Dad

Every other Friday, I write a column for my local newspaper. As luck would have it, my turn came up today -- two days before Father's Day. Here's what I wrote.

* * *

As a father for 11 years (that includes two years of raising a Labrador retriever puppy, which should be made a prerequisite for parenthood), I've found that society tends to view me and my fellow dads as second-class parents.

When fathers are absent from a family -- physically or emotionally -- everyone rages about how awful it is, especially for the children, and socioeconomic studies justify this. However, when we're there day in, day out "-- does anyone really notice? I mean besides at my daughter's dance school, where I'm usually the only male beyond the age of Huggies hanging around the waiting room.

I admit, this expectation to just be there is a bed that past fathers have made and that present and future fathers must lie in -- unless you revel in it, like Michael Lewis, the acclaimed author of "Moneyball." He writes all about his lack of interest and participation in being a third-time dad in the new book "Home Game: An Accidental Guide to Fatherhood." From what I've read in it, I'm not sure whether I feel sorrier for his kids or his wife.

I don't advocate the extreme of fathers walking around with fake pregnancy bellies and bemoaning their inability to breastfeed any more than I do them fulfilling the "Cat's in the Cradle" prophecy. There is a middle ground and I know several fathers today who stand firmly on it, through calm and earthquake alike. We help with the income, the housework, the schoolwork and our children's big questions in life such as "How can I get my Jigglypuff to evolve?" However, this role we generally perform under the radar, without a special "soccer mom"-like demographic label that marketers and politicians lust to capture, or the fanfare of an Oprah special edition on how we cope with having it all.

Dads -- pfft -- we can't even organize and promote ourselves. Am I right, ladies?

I admit that I occasionally feel slighted by the lack of general acknowledgment, but more and more I've come to accept my humble lot. This is because I've realized that the people who matter -- my wife and my children -- already know that dads are parents, too.

However, with Father's Day approaching, I'd like to offer some small appreciation to the other unsung fathers who quietly do their thing "-- in particular, my own.

Dad, thanks for all the years of providing me with shelter, food and a good life by working like a dog. Speaking of dogs, I know you tried many times to convince Mom to let me have one. It was a futile exercise, I know, but I appreciate you repeatedly going to bat for me.

On the subject of bats, thanks for all the catches and extra hitting practice over the years. I'm sure it all contributed to your need for rotator cuff surgery a few years back. Sorry. Thanks also for attending nearly all my games, especially junior year in high school when I spent the entire season warming up the pitchers in the bullpen.

Thanks for Sunday mornings. They started as post-church breakfasts at Friendly's, then became donuts from Beldotti Bakery, baseball cards and the New York Daily News. All influences on my life; not necessarily good ones, but special ones.

Thanks for The Talk before college and knowing that "don't be stupid" was all you needed to say.

Finally, thanks for not practicing birth control that one time, or else I couldn't thank you for anything at all.

* * *

Most of my columns (like my blog posts) garner little feedback. But late this morning, I found this e-mail in my inbox:

Beaver:

Thank you for the Shop-Vac and the cards. Right on!!
I read your editorial this morning and it made me cry!! But happy Son.
Look forward to tomorrow's game.

Your Dad

Yes, my dad does actually call me Beaver once in a while (as do some of my close friends).

Yes, I got my dad a new wet/dry vacuum for Father's Day (his was about 25 years old and still using the original filter).

And yes, I apparently choked the old man up.

Saturday, he'll come watch me coach my daughter's soccer team.

I think I'll be in for a hug.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there -- hot and otherwise.

Ask Hot Dads

What do I say about today's edition of Ask Hot Dads?...I really don't know...except...if we were not so busy with being dads....we'd so rule the earth!!!!!

Keep sending in your questions and we'll keep spewing our goodness.

And here we go!!!!!!!!

Jules asked:
I am a "keeper of the house" and my hubby works all day and then after work for our business. I am at home, and help with the business from home. This being said, I feel guilty going off and doing something fun while he is away at work.so... do you hard working men think it is wrong for this wife to find a sitter and go have a fabulously fun night while my hubby is off working himself weary. (I am talking about a movie/drinks with a friend once every other week - not at the bar every night until all odd hours.) Or, do you think that is mean and wrong?

TentCamper says: Well, I don’t know if I am the best person to answer this one, but here goes. Both of us work (look for work) from home and spend an equal amount of time on household chores, cooking, cleaning, carpooling and with the kids…BUT Any times that Mariah has been invited out with friends…I am all for it. I think she would do the same for me…due to the economy and our current financial situation; we have both had to decline offers to go out…only due to a lack of extra cash. I think both people should be ‘allowed’ to have some time to do things that they enjoy, while the other holds down the fort.

Southern Sage says: no. I work and she stays home. (She works way harder than me, I'd never trade gigs with her) but I WISH shed have GNO's more often! So go!!

Irish Gumbo says: Not at all. Repeat, not at all. He'd probably like to do the same once in a while. Plus, let's not forget that being a "housekeeper" with a kid or kids can be just as much of a job as anything else. I know from my own experiences taking care of my daughter alone and doing all the other stuff, that it is hard work; it being unpaid work does not make it any less valid. As long as you aren't rubbing it in his face or neglecting things at home, it shouldn't be a problem.

Dadshouse says: Totally healthy! Especially if he gets a similar night to himself. Life is not just about working and taking care of house. It's all about friendships. Not to mention, great sex and drinking.

HomeAndUncool says: I'm actually in the reverse position (not to be confused with the Reverse Cowgirl position). As the "man about the house," I often feel the guilts about doing anything fun while My Love works hard for the money. But My Love understands that being keeper of the kids' schedules, coach to their teams, cooker of their meals, and warden of their bedtimes (not to mention, slave to the dog) is a full-time gig -- one that she admits would drive her batty. Her words to me have been, essentially, "Get out once in a while. Let me have some fun vicariously through you." Then, I remind her she can have fun physically with me anytime she wants, which brings us back to that Reverse Cowgirl thing, which usually leads to her rolling her eyes and handing me my car keys. So live a little now and then. You're entitled.

Hubman says: I don't think that there is anything wrong with it at all. I would assume that it's okay for him to have a boys night out once in a while, right? 'Cause it better be! How about this- in addition, do you get a sitter once in a while and go out with him?

DaddyGeekBoy says: The only way this is wrong if your husband doesn’t get his turn to play with his friends and/or your going out inhibits your responsibilities as a wife and parent. It doesn’t sound like the latter is true. And based on this question, I’m going to guess that you make sure your man gets his QT every once in a while also.


Not A Soccer Mom asked:
How do you make Crème Brule?

TentCamper says: My famous recipe for crème brule is…Exactly the way she tells me to make it.

Southern Sage says: I have no clue what that even is but go to the clinic and get a shot of penicillin that should clear it right up.

Irish Gumbo says: Heat 2 cups heavy cream to just below a simmer (include one split vanilla bean if you don't want extract). In a medium to large bowl stir gently until barely blended: 8 large eggs plus 1/2 cup sugar.. Remove vanilla bean if using. Very slowly (so as not to curdle the eggs) stir in the cream. Then strain through a fine mesh strainer into a large bowl to remove any small lumps. Stir in 3/4 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract if not using vanilla bean. Pour strained mixture into 6 to 8 ramekins of 4- to 6-oz. each. Place them in a baking pan or other ovenproof container big enough to hold them, and pour in water to no more than halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Carefully set pan in oven, center rack, and set to 250 degrees Farenheit. Let bake until just set but a little quivery, about 1 to 1-1/2 hours. Remove and let cool. Wrap tightly with plastic wrap, refrigerate at least 8, no more than 24, hours. Gently blot any liquid off the top when ready to serve. If you like, sprinkle about 1-1/2 to 2 teaspoons sugar evenly over the tops and hit them with a propane kitchen torch. CAREFULLY. The trick is to just caramelize the sugar without demolishing the creme brulee. "Burnt creme" is a slight figure of speech.

You can do all that, or just find a really good pastry chef, let them do all the work. The creme brulee at Blue Ginger in Watertown, MA (at least when I had it) was so good you'd hurt yourself!

Dadshouse says: I'd find a hot woman, ask her out on multiple dates, be my charming self, and eventually get her to make one for me! Talk about happy endings.

HomeAndUncool says: Although we do own the little blow torch made just to caramelize frilly desserts, I have never attempted this one. However, I have found in my other cooking adventures to always put faith in the goofy genius of The Food Network's Alton Brown: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/creme-brulee-recipe/index.html. Let me know how it works out for you

Hubman says: 1) Go to Google
2) Search for "Creme Brulee"
3) click on http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/creme-brulee-recipe/index.html for directions
See, wasn't that easy?

DaddyGeekBoy says: I know my way around the kitchen, but I have no baking mojo. It’s all too precise with little room for improvisation. Therefore, I do not make crème brule. However, I do know that any good crème brule worth eating uses real vanilla beans. Get a vanilla bean pod, split it down the middle then scrape out the beans inside.


Roxee asked:
If you couldn't touch/explore/lick/or kiss or weren't allowed to touch/explore/lick/or kiss your spouse, significant other, or one night stand on the lips, breasts, va-jay-jay, or butt... what is the next part of the body you would LOVE to touch/explore/lick/or kiss?

TentCamper says: Below the belly button and her inner thighs.

Southern Sage says: Whatever the part is tween her yeee hawww and belly button! or the small of her back, or her neck!

Irish Gumbo says: That reminds me of the time my doctor told me I needed to stop consuming chocolate, alcohol, caffeine and spicy foods. My response? "So what am I supposed to eat?" Hmmm. Well, if that were the case (and I hope it never is), I'd have to say the back of the knees, the little v-shaped dip where the hip meets the torso and/or the little hollow at the base of the throat. Along with the tops of the feet, and the inside crook of the elbow. Oooh, let's not forget the top of the cleft of the booty at the base of the the spine. Which I guess is technically not the butt. You decide.

Dadshouse says: Her tummy. Or that little crook above the hip. Of course, "she'd" want me to lick the nape of her neck. And I must admit, if that got her touching/exploring/licking/kissing all parts of me, well then, I'd give up on the tummy or hip crook, and go for said neck, pronto!

HomeAndUncool says: I'm a leg man -- from the tip of your well-manicured toenails, cruising up your tanned and toned calf, around the perfumed back of your knees to the firm but gentle slope up your … oh God, oh God. (BTW, My Love once read that licking the eyeball can be a real turn on. Mmm -- no. For the licker or the lickee.)

Hubman says: Enough qualifiers? lol...
A nice, shapely, strong pair of legs, of course. Working my way up and down her thighs and calves, teasingly brushing past her va-jay-jay, as you put it...

DaddyGeekBoy says: What no breasts? Aw man. Seriously, the nape of her neck is my favorite place to spend time.


Bonus Question –

Not A Soccer Mom asked:
What is the meaning of life?

TentCamper says: well…If I recall my last conversation with MY higher Power correctly…The meaning of life is to live it to the fullest, do what makes you happy and cherish those around you…beyond that?...There is no meaning.

Southern Sage says: This one is way above my pay grade!

Irish Gumbo says: "To crush your enemies, drive them before you and hear the lamentations of the women"...oh, wait, that's Conan the Barbarian..lemme think...Aha!...It's "42"! No, dammit, that's Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy, wait, hold up....I got it!....

The meaning of life is to live in the constant unfolding of Love.

Dadshouse says: The Dalai Lama says the meaning of life is to be happy. He then says you find happiness by giving love through compassion. I'm okay with that. But I also find quite a bit of happiness in a good f**k, and a Manhattan cocktail. See question one above!

HomeAndUncool says: You are.

Hubman says: Wow, you really put a lot of faith in us Hot Dads! But I have no freakin' idea!

DaddyGeekBoy says: 42

Do adults with children have friends?

I don’t know if I just have this whole adult/parent thing all jumbled up in my head…or if what this post is gong to (hopefully) be about is legitimate.

I’ve had conversations with Mariah before about this but it seems that I never really have my thoughts straight. I am talking about having friends. Do adults with children have friends? Are said parents just friends with whoever their kids’ friends’ parents are?

I don’t know if parents are supposed to have friends, in the same manner that they did before having kids. If they are, do they go out for a drink or to catch a movie with said friends? Or do they just sit and socialize while their respective kids are having ‘play dates?’

I know that as an adult and as a parent, that the mundane things like working, feeding, clothing and caring for your children top the priority list, but I still can’t help feeling friendless. There are a few guys (yes…they are parents of some of our kids’ friends) that I like and love to ‘hang’ with. But with all of our personal and kids’ schedules all it ever seems to be is 15 minutes of shooting the shit while picking up or dropping off a kid. Is that they way it is supposed to be? Am I diluted to think that more is to be expected?

I suppose that it is not that big of a deal right now due to the fact that I do not have the time in the evening…or the money to go grab a few beers and catch a movie with my dad friends…but if I did…is that what people do?

A few months ago I tried to set up a guys’ poker night at my house. I wanted to start with a few guys once a month. After emailing 7 neighborhood dads…I got one that said he could do it…not the makings of a good poker night. I guess I just need to admit defeat and disregard my thoughts of having friends outside of our kids’ world.

No matter how many times I tell the kids, “It is not all about you!” I am the one that is full of shit. It IS all about the kids. I guess I am answering my own original question here and now am starting to understand that whole mid-life-crisis thing. Suck it up, do the kid thing and then once the kids are out of the house and off in the world making their marks…that is when we (parents) begin to reclaim our lives and try to pick up where we left off (before kids.)

Don’t get me wrong…I love the kids and love doing everything that I can to make them happy and loved. This has just been one of those nagging things bouncing around in the back of my skull for a while. …I guess I have rambled enough about this and if it made no sense to you…..whatever…I feel better just getting it out.

You know me….just peeing in the wind!!!!

When You Can't Coach

I sucked as a soccer coach. I volunteered to be in charge of a team of eight boys playing six-on-six soccer (they were 5 year-olds). Even with my soccer-playing older daughter giving me tips, I managed to lead the team through a season where we lost every game. (Hey, no one keeps score at that age, right? Um... ok.)

Thankfully, the next time I coached, I was paired with a dad who was such a good athlete, his jersey was retired in high school. (I think my school retired a TI-55 calculator in honor of me.) We led our team of boys to an undefeated season and league championship. (Damn straight, we kept score!)

Okay, so I rode that dad's coattails to coaching glory. I've since retired from the youth sports coaching ranks. I went out a winner! (My son thinks that's funny. He takes it all with a grain of salt, and ribs me about our losing season.)

I believe it's important for every parent to show their kids they have a passion and talent for something. Whether that's soccer, camping, fishing (I love TentCamper's big catch), cycling (here I am with Lance Armstrong at the Tour of California), cooking (I hold the patent on the worlds best hamburger recipe), stamp collecting, robotics (the science fairs at our local school are quite competitive), knitting, rescuing animals, whatever - I think kids benefit when they see their parents engaged with life, even more so when the parent can share those experiences with their kids. (As a coach, mentor, etc.) Kids like to know their parents are good at something.

For me and my son, that connection has come through music. My dad played trumpet, I played trumpet, my son plays trumpet. For years, I gave him trumpet playing tips to help him excel and stand out. Things were going great. So much so, the school band director said my son had chops and was ready for a real private teacher.

At first, I hated the idea of being replaced as his trumpet teacher. Granted, I was a too lax with him. I taught him all the cool stuff (how to hit high notes, and how to twirl his trumpet like he was in the Earth Wind and Fire horn section), and none of the boring technical stuff. I knew he'd benefit from someone teaching him a more disciplined approach. I hired a teacher.

My son really enjoys his trumpet lessons. He's improving as a musician every single week. And the cool thing for me, I haven't been left out.

At the end of each lesson, his trumpet teacher and I start talking shop. We trade knowledge about mutes and mouthpieces, share stories about gigging, reminisce about songs we've both played, swap anecdotes about cool cats we've hung with (yeah, he talks like that), name-drop like crazy about famous musicians we've met, tell funny stories about playing in a band that only other musicians would relate to. The trumpet teacher and I are part of an ad-hoc fraternity that anyone who has ever played an instrument beyond high school can relate to.

My son sits and listens to these war stories with a smile on his face. Maybe he's looking forward to his own future experiences.

Or maybe he thinks his dad is pretty cool.

David Mott authors the blog Dad's House - Dating and Parenting by a Single Dad.

Date night with my daughter

While growing up, I was a klutz who spent many nights in the emergency room. There was never a year that I didn't spend some time in the hospital.

There was a concussion after running into a pole while in a kindergarten, a broken rib suffered in a baseball game as a 12-year-old, a deep cut to my right knee from a bike spoke, and I almost cut a pinkie finger off while working as a slicer at an Italian restaurant as a teenager. Throw in four surgeries for various health issues, and it shouldn't surprise that many of the hospital staff knew me on a first name basis.

After each trip, my parents always had some gift waiting for me at home. It always made me feel loved when I walked into my room and found some present waiting for me on my bed.

On Thursday afternoon, I was able to do the same thing for one my own daughters. I received a call during my last class from her mother that Shelby split her chin open after falling on a toy box. I left work in a hurry and spent the afternoon with my six-year-old in a local urgent care.

The result was a night that neither of us will ever forget.

She received six stitches to close up a cut that the doctor said was one of the worst she had seen. My daughter was a trooper during the ordeal and I knew I had to come up with something to give her like my parents had for me after my hospital visits.

I had two tickets to a Los Angeles Lakers' game later that night and had troubles finding someone to go with me. While waiting to be seen, I had received a number of text messages from friends saying that for some reason or other they would not be able to join me to watch one of the best teams in the NBA.

Shelby kept telling me different friends I should try and invite to the game, but never came up with person I knew I should take.

"Hey, I know someone I can take to the game," I said.

"Who?"

"You!"

She smiled so big at my response that the doctor warned her about possibly reopening her cut. We both laughed at that and walked hand in hand out the door.

She talked endlessly during the two-hour drive and never stopped asking questions about what she was going to see. I have never seen her so excited, however, it would have been nice for a few quiet moments while trying to navigate through LA traffic.

As soon as we walked into Staples Center, she had to have a Lakers' t-shirt, a foam finger in the shape of the No. 1 sign, an ice cream cone, and a large bottle of water. She was quickly becoming an expensive date.

While waiting for the game to start, she asked me what I thought was an innocent question. It ended up being a dig at her old man.

"Dad, who do you think will win the game?"

"The Lakers are going to win for sure, baby."

"Well, that will be nice. Your basketball and football teams never win."

She is definitely my daughter.

Despite that comment, we had a great night and the Lakers did win. She stood up the entire game cheering and yelling "MVP" every time the Kobe Bryant got the ball.

As we walked out, she said thanks and that she had a great time. Shelby even said that she was glad that she got hurt and was able to spend the night all on her own with me.

I couldn't have agreed with her more.

end of the world or a new beginning?

At this point we have about the same number of Hot Dads (14) as we do Hot Mamas (11).

What would happen if we all lived on the same block?
I can imagine that the local police would have a special unit (no ladies…not THAT kind of unit) to keep us in control. The block parties would be insane. Taking turns breaking out the steaks for BBQing and ….shit…we’d have to have our own liquor store at the end of the block…to keep us nourished. I could picture…on any given night folks changing and ‘other stuff’ in front of open windows…just to give the rest of us something to watch (and blog about).

What would happen if life ‘jumbled us up’ and we were paired up as couples?
Could you picture…

cIII married to The Mom Jen or Tonya shacking up with Hubman?
Would the world be safe if Irish Gumbo and Redneck Mommy filled a school with little Irish Rednecks?

Picture Cameron and LiteralDan duking it out over wise young Petra.

I could see Always Home And Uncool, Trooper Thorn, Russ, Tenakim and our (Barefoot) Brittany all shacking up in some compound.

Would Daddy Geek Boy, Dadshouse or Coachdad be a better fit for Scary Mommy?

Close your eye and imagine the posts if Sage and Happy Hour Sue hooked up.

Then after ManicMariah, Sammanthia and Loralee hook up… Me (TentCamper), Halftime Lessons and Heinous will no doubt be arrested for stalking, and being peeping toms at their little love shack.

Shit….where did all of that come from?


and....thank you to all of the above for filling my head with these crazy-ass ...hot...thoughts!

My love for Al

Al Pacino. My hero. The only man that I would say I have a crush on. A man's man.

The style, confidence, bravado, and all-knowing Al Pacino. There hasn't been a role he has played that I haven't taken a piece of and tried to incorporate in my own personality.

Whether it be the leadership qualities he possessed in the Godfather series, the combination of his self-deprecating and confident manners in A Scent of a Woman, or the fearlessness and determined Tony Montana in Scarface, Pacino has the it that I want. He is just one bitching dude.

I can recite line after line that he has uttered in his movies. I often do in my own life. A few examples:

"Just when I thought I was out they pull me back in.", said in Godfather III. I used it when I returned to coaching football after a three-year stint as a golf coach.

"I always tell the truth. Even when I lie.", said in Scarface. My favorite response whenever asked if I am bullshitting or not.

"There are two kinds of people in this world. The first group is the people who face the music; the second group are those who run for cover.", as Frank Slade in Scent of a Woman. I have used this with students who have found trouble.

One line that I have always wanted to use, but haven't found the right opportunity to is the famous, "Say hello to my little friend!" That scene from Scarface gets me every time.

The only appropriate time I have thought of saying it would be before sex. I have not in fear of ruining the mood.

Even as a parent, Al Pacino is in me. As a young child, I remember watching Author! Author! with my parents and thinking that he played a great father. He was a single parent who showed vividly how to handle all the challenges of raising kids on his own.

My favorite scene from the movie is one that I often play out with my own girls. After a long day at work, Pacino enters his house and begins to talk about everything he did during his day to his kids. He ends it by screaming "I forgot to beat my kids!", and runs around the house chasing his kids.

Ever so often when I come home, I calmly walk into the kitchen and begin to spew off details of my own day. Then I yell, "I forgot to tickle my kids!"

As soon as the words leave my mouth, my girls take off running all over the house with me close behind. They want to be caught. They need to be caught. And, sooner rather than later, they are caught.

I dive into them, tickle them to near tears, then leave them in a hump on the ground breathless. Each of them possessing a smile on their face that can't be beat.

It is the closest to being Al Pacino I can get.

Posted by Coachdad

Drama Unveiled !

I am completely losing my freaking mind here. I don’t even know where to start.

After getting home from volunteering at the kid’s middle school today, we got phone calls from both middle school kids saying that they were called into the school counselor’s office and were interviewed by Social Services. Upon hearing this, Mariah about lost her mind, while puking all over her insides.

We had no clue about any issues and we immediately called the school to find out what was going on. They explained that Social Services interviewed the two kids today due to an investigation that they are conducting. We hung up and could not dial the number for Social Services fast enough. With sweat pouring down our faces, we were given the number for the woman assigned to our case.

After leaving her a message that we were concerned and wanted to find out what was going on, she called back about 15 minutes later. She explained that they received a call from an ‘anonymous’ source claiming ‘general neglect and emotional abuse - that we; are alcoholics and drug addicts, leave the kids unsupervised for hours at a time and allow parties for our high school daughter with drugs and alcohol.

Now we were also told that the call came in on Saturday the 7th of February (the same day that I told my ex that if she did not bring my boys to me for my first overnight visit, that I would call the police.)

As the report is confidential, I can not say for sure who made the accusations, but I do have my suspicions. Now…I know that she dislikes, hates or distrusts me…and does not like Mariah (whom she has never met) but making accusations to CPS is absolutely out of control. How can someone who has never met Mariah or any of her kids, who has never stepped foot in our house, who has never spoken to anyone in this household and who knows no mutual friends…make any accusations?

I understand that she wants to punish me and …be the boss of me, but attempting to have Mariah’s kids taken away from us – just so that I won’t get further visitations with my boys, is absolutely insane!

Now…the allegations are false and the interviews today went very well…but I guess I am just at a loss for what to do. Do I find a way to fight back? Do I leave it alone? Do I say “OK…what do you want of me? Do you want me to walk away? Do you want me to be in our boys’ lives?....WHAT?” I kind of feel that she is just attacking with whatever she can …and since I’ve been granted the overnights…she has taken out the ‘big guns.’

I don’t know … but what I do know is that this drama needs to stop. Bottom line is that I think it would be great if we could invite her over to sit down with a glass of ‘JUICE’ and smooth things out …see what she wants and find some middle ground so that none of the kids are in the middle of this ridiculous battle.

GOD…GRANT ME THE SERENITY…

Overnight Excitement

I am very excited to announce that tomorrow I get to have my two boys spend the night with me. The last time I spent the night with them was September of 2005.

The divorce and visitation/custody proceedings have been long and drawn out. It is nice to know that things are finally moving forward. I have been spending weekend days with them but until now I have not been able to have them sleep with me.

I know that the first few sleep-overs will not be easy as they are used to being with their mother, but I am so happy that we will be having this time together. I have spent the last few days taping some shows and some of my favorite childhood movies for them, cleaning and setting up their room, preparing their beds and stocking up on their favorite foods.

Again…I can’t even venture to tell you all how happy I am …but at the same time I can’t help but to feel anxious and worried that they might have a hard time adjusting to sleeping at my house. I want it to be smooth and worry free for everyone. I know that it will all work out and that they will love spending every other weekend at my house.

Well….everything is ready and now…I just have to wait until tomorrow morning.

Introducing.... Me

How the heck did I end up here? The first I heard from Bedside Talesman was "I have been told by a few people now that you need to get involved in this new blog that I started...".

To which I replied "A few people told you I need to get involved? I sense smoke being blown up my ass, but that's alright!"

In any case, I happily accepted the offer.

Since this is a bunch of guys who may or may not know each other from our main blogs (I only knew Bedside Talesman and Southern Sage before) I figured I would start by introducing myself.

I'm very happily married for 15 yrs to my college sweetheart (check out her blog here, if you're so inspired) and we have 2 kids, Darling Boy, 8 yrs old, and Princess Persistent, who is not quite 3 yrs old. My wife is known on the blogs as Another Suburban Mom (ASM) and as Veronica. We've been through a lot together- finishing college, several graduate degrees, numerous moves and job changes. We are both career-driven individuals trying to balance work and home lives.

I LOVE being a dad. Not to say it doesn't drive me nuts some days... But sometimes I wonder if I'm doing things "right". I imagine that I'll share some of those doubts here.

Some of my baggage is that not only are mine and my wife's parents divorced, but there are serious issues with both of our fathers. My dad is an alcoholic, recovered now, and a wonderful grandpa to the kids, but not so good when I was growing up. He tried, he really did, but in many ways I hope I do "better" with my kids than he did with me. Is it bad that I look up to my step-father as a role model more than my own dad?

Veronica's dad? When she was getting ready to head off to college he informed her that he thought she was destined for failure and by helping pay for her education he would be wasting his money. Their relationship declined from there, to the point when we got married 4 yrs later he was not invited to our wedding. When each of our kids were born she wrote him a letter telling him about them, in an effort to repair the relationship and allow our kids to know their paternal grandfather. His response? Absolutely nothing. We never heard from him.

So that's a little about me.

Thanks for the invite- this should be fun!

Posted by Hubman

What's next??

I got some parental advise from my seven-year-old the other day. She is concerned with the way I am bringing up her little sister - the 4-year-old who thinks she is 18.

Seems Savannah is trying to make up for the fact that I don't have their mother around to make sure I don't screw my kids up too much with the way I raise them. Cute for sure, however, what the hell does she know about molding a young child?

After all, I have been doing it on my own for four years and aside from telling Shelby to hide a quarter her in mouth to keep it away from Savannah two years ago, I think I have done a pretty good job. (Shelby would go on to swallow the quarter and we would end up spending the rest of the day in the emergency room.)

In addition to making sure they are provided for, I read to them every day, help them with homework, play games with them, let them apply makeup to my face, wake up at a ridiculous time on the weekends to make them pancakes, and never go out at night because I feel guilty about them spending so much time with a babysitter while I work.

What could I possibly be doing wrong?

"I just think you need to do some things differently around Alani,'' Vanna said.

"And what is that baby? Don't be afraid... just tell me."

"You need to stop saying bad words around her. Me and Shelby know that just because you say them doesn't mean we can. I am worried Alani will be saying them all the time at school when she starts Kindergarten next year. It's bad, Daddy."

Wow. . . just like that, I was speechless. She had a point. I do spew out four letter words a lot in the house. I don't direct them at my girls, but they leave my mouth quite regularly. And Alani has gotten pretty good at including them in her own vocabulary.

I always tell her not to, but it hasn't seemed to deter her too much. It probably doesn't help that the girls and I laugh after hearing Alani talk as if she is walking the halls of my high school. Some of her classic sayings that have brought laughter from her siblings and I include:

"What the fuck did you do that for?" Said after I hit the back of her mouth while brushing her teeth recently.

"This is bullshit... I am going to play with my Barbies." Said after being frustrated at losing when playing the game Sorry with the rest of us.

"Dad, don't you think Hannah Montana is cool as shit?" That one needs no explanation.

And her favorite and one that was said recently while I had some coaching friends over watching an NFL playoff game. "More fucking football? Don't you watch anything else?"

Did I mention she is four?

After replaying all this in my head for a few minutes, Vannah brought me back to the present by asking me, "Don't you think it will be your fault if she is cussing in class next year and in trouble all the time? What do you think she is going to say to the teacher when she is told that snack time is over?"

I answered her, "What the fuck? I am not done yet."

"Yea, Daddy. You have to stop it around her."

She was right. Son of a bitch, she was right. I gave up smoking last week, now I have to stop cussing?

I hate to think of what's next.

Posted by CoachDad

My Balls

As a stay at home dad, I do have a lot of the same concerns, issues and interactions as many of the mommy bloggers out there….BUT…I also have balls…these balls that sway between my thighs send messages to my brain on a continual basis that help me to realize that things such as shopping, cute baby pictures, shoes, malls, brunch with friends and movies like ‘The Notebook’ or “when Harry Met Sally’ are just NOT what I should be blogging or worrying about.

My Balls tell me to pay a bit more attention to; love, sex, hot women, fast cars, fishing, camping, the NFL, poker, action movies (with lots of guns), being ‘king’ of my world, protecting and caring for my family, ….oh…..and beer!

Twisted as women think men are…we, as parents, strive for the same things (I think). It is just that we travel differing paths to get there. Men, well….shit….I’ll talk for myself. I seem to take the most difficult, but exciting paths…anything to add adventure and adrenaline to my journey. Women on the other hand, generally tend to take that meandering, path that moves slowly past the flowers and the pretty houses.

So, all in all…don’t be haters ladies. Love us for the end goals…not the path that we take to get there. Remember it is not us that chooses the path…it is our balls. The balls that provide you with pleasure and children…I assure you…you would hate us without them!

A New Begining

As the first post on this new blog, I thought it would be a good idea to shove in your face the reason behind starting this blog. With the enormous amount of mommy bloggers out there…we…the Y chromosomes need to have a voice. As the hottest dads on the internet, we are here to fill you in on all things in dad’s world. Parenting, guy time, the man’s view, sex, women, family, kids, hobbies, etc. are among the topics that we will be writing about.

The main mission here is to create a central place where dads, who want to be heard, can voice there opinions - while also giving the disgustingly huge community of mommy bloggers a place to hear what us guys have to say about parenting and life.

I hope to be able to round up some of the web’s hottest daddy bloggers as contributors so that we have hot fresh and interesting content every day.

If any of you have suggestions on bloggers that you feel would be a good fit…please let me know…or have them email me.