Good Parents Make Their Kids "Face The Fear"!

Peyton Pinkerton, 37, has been known to run out of malls, fairgrounds, and other places "on repeated occasions," to flee the object of his personal phobia: clowns (Coulrophobia). Why, you ask?

"I was yelled at by a birthday party clown when I was about 4 years old and have been absolutely terrified of them ever since. If I'm surprised by seeing a clown, it's like snakes or rats. My fight-or-flight response kicks in," Pinkerton says. (Source: CNN article below.)

As a child I had a bad fear of unleashed dogs. If I saw them, my flight response kicked in and I was off to the races! (Typically with the dog hot on my heels--cause they like the running game!) Turns out that when I was a toddler, a big dog knocked me down and growled at me. That was it for me! (Cynophobia=fear of dogs)

The POINT is...phobias often begin in childhood through a traumatic event. And the various ways parents and the children themselves deal with phobias typically makes them worse. (The #1 reason women seek professional counseling is for help in overcoming a phobia.) (Source, CNN article below)

As any GOOD PARENT knows, there is no place for fear in the life of the successful person. No fear. Winners fight, losers take flight. When the child of the good parent experiences fear, to take advantage of the teachable moment (and to avoid
public embarrassment--Agoraphobia), the good parent has only one strategy: "FACE THE FEAR, DUDE!"

Over the years, I've seen good parents employ various innovative strategies to help their cowering children "face the fear." Here are two:

A 7-ish looking boy who is obviously terrified of water (Hydrophobia) refusing to get into a vacation hotel pool. Apparently, by NOT swimming, the boy was starting to ruin his good dad's expensive %$#$#% vacation (cause that is what dear dad kept yelling at the kid). The macho dad's next best idea was to carry his now kicking and screaming son to the deep end and throw him in. Oh yes. This was smart.

After dropping like a rock, the boy popped above the water, screaming bloody murder, coughing and gagging on the water he swallowed. The dad continued to yell at him...finally pulling him out of the water by one arm and storming back to his hotel room....boy in tow (obviously dad was overcome by "Kakorrhaphiophobia"- a fear of failure or defeat).

--A 4-year-old girl who is terrified of dogs (cynophobia)--is screaming and trying to scramble away from a large dog. Her mom handles it with verbal encouragement, "Oh don't be a scared little baby...pet the dog...you are making mommy mad!" Mom then grabs her daughter's hand, "PET THE DOG...it's a sweet dog...stop being a scaredy cat!" and forces her to pet the snout of the dog, resulting in the girl kicking, screaming using every ounce of her strength to run away. In short...a Hallmark moment.

Okay, so you tried throwing the kid into the pool, and making the daughter pet the savage beast close to the mouth. Hey, you even tried yelling and shaming...possibly even some "corporal" punishment. Well, goood effort. Maybe next time, try a few of these things...

1) Don't set a timeline on when a kid should overcome a phobia. Some will require a lot of your time and patience. PATIENCE! (This is my weakness, impatience.)

2) Baby steps. Anyone who has seen, "What About Bob?" knows the importance of "baby steps." Don't throw the kid into the pool. Hold them while they dangle their toes in first, etc.

3) Encouragement and Love. Encourage your child. Your anger or ridiculing will do zero good. (Well, they'll do as much good as when people try them on you :)

4) Professional help. Refer to the book Freeing Your Child from Anxiety: Powerful, Practical Solutions to Overcome Your Child's Fears, Worries, and Phobias or consider counseling.

Don't worry, it is STILL possible for your child to be a winner even if they have a phobia or two to overcome. Your status as a Good Parent CAN remain intact.

Related posts:
Loving example?
Is your child gifted?

Recommended movie: What About Bob?

Here is a great book with solid advice to help your child overcome fears and phobias: Freeing Your Child from Anxiety: Powerful, Practical Solutions to Overcome Your Child's Fears, Worries, and Phobias

Click here for the original article: CNN Article on Phobias!

Important Message on Monitoring Your Children and Teenagers Online

Important: This is NOT one of those wonderful blogs that do nothing but advertise products, or offer faux reviews. This is a one-time suggestion of a software to protect your children online. If you'd prefer to leave now, consider these blog posts of mine that a lot of people seemed to enjoy:
Ugly Son? It's Dad's Fault, Study Shows...
Gag-Proof Your Parenting Attitude! (Get the Funk Out Your Home!)
The Zippy and Lippy Show--Dad Gone Wild!

Here is a link to this GREAT software! Spector Pro 6.0

Still here? Okay, here's the deal...there are many different software programs out there to help keep your child safe on the Internet. But once your child gets into the upper-elementary age-group, such software becomes far less effective (kids can't get to the game sites or music sites they want to get to with the other software and you have to set the filters to be so loose, the protection of the software becomes practically useless).

As kids get older, you need a way to MONITOR them. (At least that's been my experience. But perhaps your child is perfect. :)

Features of Spector Pro. Spector Pro’s excellent combination of monitoring features: Screen Snapshots, Chat/IM Activity, Web Sites Visited, Email Activity, Program Activity and Keywords Detected. They also have three new features: MySpace Activity, Online Searches and Top 10 Summary Reports.

Without getting into too much detail, our monitoring has kept our daughter safe several times already. One time we were alerted she had tried to input our address. Another time we were alerted to cyber-bullying. A third time we picked up on some boys that were 19 and 20 flirting with our daughter online and trying to get her to meet them (then 14)--that one was a lot of fun.

That is what makes this software so good.

Plus the install was easy and the customer service was excellent. So if you want it, go ahead and buy it. If you don't want it or if you are uncomfortable with that level of monitoring of your child's online activity, simply don't buy it. Thank you for your time and tolerance.

There is a corporate version of this. Sales have been brisk due to statistics showing that the average worker admits spending over 2 hours a day of company time surfing the internet for non-business related purposes. (Emphasis there on the "admits". To corporate, it's called "time theft"--though buffooned recently on the wonderful show The Office--still a reality.) Yeah, if companies could get that 25% of worker time back...maybe there won't be as many lay-offs...word to the wise, warning to the wise guys.

You may balk at the price of this product (at this writing $84.99 on Amazon) ...to me, it is the best $85 I ever spent. Worth EVERY penny for the peace of mind it brings.

Here is the link again to learn more: Spector Pro 6.0

Ugly Son? It's Dad's Fault, Study Shows...

<--Both of the above were DAD's fault!-->

In America, one of our most important tasks, as good parents, is to produce beautiful children. The reason for this is two-fold, 1) it makes our friends jealous, and, 2) it allows us the ability to put a spotlight on our own attractive features by pointing them out in our children.
It works like this:
Jessica's Mom to friend:: "Jessica's eyes are so pretty in this portrait."
Desired response delivered from same friend: "She's beautiful, she has your eyes."
Jessica's Mom to friend: "Oh, you're so sweet for saying that." (Thinks: Yes, she is beautiful. Yes, she gets it from me.)

:) Everyone is smiley happy!!

Then a study comes along and rains "reality" on the beauty parade. According to this study: if you are a beautiful girl, you should thank DAD. Because good-looking dad was responsible for that. According to this study, good-looking dads produce beautiful daughters. (And I can personally attest to the truth of at least THIS part of the study :)...ahem.)

On the OTHER hand, If you "ain't 'nud'n' BUT ugly" (or "butt ugly")...and you're a boy--you have one more thing to BLAME dad for--he did it! Again, this is "true" IF your dad is a hunk. (For example: Youngblood, if your dad is Brad Pitt you have NO CHANCE at being boy pretty, no chance--you WILL look like a troll.)

Even a beautiful "Jewish mom" can't get her sons into the kingdom of "handsome." The mother's beauty "makes no difference to her adult sons." :(

Carry on all you hunky good dads out there--Keep up the good work on keeping the FEMININE beauty factor high in our great land. Good-looking moms--clearly this study is rubbish, right?...it is, isn't it? :)

In the COMMENTS section below, let us know how the whole "beauty" thing in our society affects your self-image, and that of your daughters and sons.

Here are two great resources for helping your child or teen develop a healthy self-image:
For children: The Five Love Languages of Children
For teens: The Five Love Languages of Teenagers

For related posts, see:
Blaming Dad
Dad and Daughter Relationship
"Lippy" the Unsmart Dad--and His Spawn (Son) "Zippy"!

Visit the site where good parents like you with VERY attractive children, compare notes: The website for ALL parents--good looking or not

To see the original article, click here: Good Looking Fathers Make Ugly Sons, but Beautiful Daughters (Source: Fox News from the Telegraph, by Auslan Cramb, Scottish Correspondent)

Gag-Proof Your Parenting Attitude! (Get the Funk Out Your Home!)

Gag reflex warning: Best read by those with a minimal gag reflex. The rest of you, please move to somewhere safe before reading and/or grab a brown paper bag,

Test 1: PUKE! Still okay? You passed.

Test 2: Video

Okay, you are good to go.

The Pool of Vomit That Swallowed the Smithsonian!

Well almost. This is a true story.

I was in the band in high school. (I promise, WE were cool. Okay, okay, maybe we weren't). So anyway, our band went on a trip up to Washington DC for a competition and to march in a parade. We also got in quite a bit of sightseeing at the various monuments.

On one particular day, we were visiting one of the Smithsonian's. I was with a group of 5-6 people. We were bopping past the snack bar, talking and laughing, paying no attention to where we were going (as teenagers are wont to do) when I suddenly looked down to see a HUGE puddle of vomit!!

I was on point, but didn't even have time to tell my groupmates. As I acrobatically sidestepped the puddle I got a little bit on my shoe. Stephanie right behind me wasn't as lucky...she stepped right in--looked down, and IMMEDIATELY threw up...thus making this already impressive vomit puddle even more expansive. The rest of us were sent reeling and gagging away.

No one escaped unscathed. As we sat down and did our best to wipe the vomit from our shoes...another group of band members came strolling by.

"Mary! Susan!" we shouted. Too late.

Next thing we knew, Mary and Susan BOTH went sloshing through the vomit lake--looked down, and IMMEDIATELY threw up!! A bystander who had been laughing at everyone else was overcome and PROJECTILED TOO--which started another vomit pool.

Finally, the Smithsonian cleaning crew showed up, sprinkled the pixie dust on the puke ocean (and pond) and the Smithsonian was saved from the vomit threat. And we, we who endured the horror together became very close, like a family. A family of vomit funk survivors.

Believe it or not, there is a tie in here with parenting--besides the importance of having a strong gag reflex. (Somebody holla' poopy diaper!!!) And I wanted a RIVETING attention-getter to make this point unforgettable.

It's all about attitude ma and/or pa.

The gag reflex is powerful. When vomit funks up a place--the sight and smell of it causes an IMMEDIATE reaction in everyone there.

In the same way, if we typically grumble, complain, act grumpy and rude--and inflict that on others in our home, we totally funk up the environment. People gag on that and start spewing out the same filthy funk right back at us.

Make no mistake, as parents we set the attitude tone in the home. If it's a sweet-smelling attitude in the home, and you're all chill with love, positivity, courtesy and respect, I guarantee you or another "together" adult is behind it.

If it be funky up in the home? An adult is probl'y behind that too. And we all make the choice every day between a "funky" or "sweet-smelling" attitude tone in our home. What's yours...today?

Ready to de-funkify the tone in your home? Click on this link: Home De-Funkifier

In COMMENTS below, let us know what you do to maintain a loving attitude and positivite spirit in your home.

Do you know a family that is a shining light of love and positivity? Nominate them here: Families That Inspire

Check out the he website for parents...with an attitude: Parenting With 'Tude

How Being a Boy Almost Killed Me (If My Parents Had Known, They WOULDA' Killed Me!)

When I was growing up, I could have died. Real bad. A whole bunch of times. And my parents never knew it until now. ("Hi mom and dad!")

Oh and don't feel so smug about your kids. Chances are you won't find out until 20 years from now about the numb-skulled, death-defying craziness your child is into RIGHT NOW. I am talking about the kind of stuff that could turn them into a potted plant--or plant them six feet under. (Think of all YOUR death-defying "Jackass TV show"-like near death experiences!) And why don't you know? Because they are afraid you would KILL them if you found out!

Here were just a few of my near-death experiences:

Death By Hot Dog and Kool-Aid--I was 5-years-old, at my friend Bernard's birthday party. There were many hot dogs. Me and Bernard, being the party "clowns"--competed to see how many we could stuff into our mouths. I ended up with such a huge wad of hotdog and bun in my mouth that I could not chew or swallow. That LAST thing I was going to do was spit out the whole glob...but I swear it was about to gag me.

Some kids noticed and started making fun and laughing. I couldn't help myself and started laughing real hard which made me choke real bad. I ran to a bush, and spit out a real lot. I returned to the table and drank some Kool-Aid. I started laughing again--and Kool-Aid came out of my nose!! I was petrified--I thought it was blood. I seriously thought I could have died real bad--twice in 3 minutes.

Arrows From Heaven
There was this time when I was 5 or 6, playing with a big group of kids, when a teenage boy invited us over to his back yard. We were honored a cool teenager even paid attention to us without trying to take our money or push us around. So we went.

The game he introduced us to this day was simple: He would shoot target arrows up into the sky...and all us little kids would try to avoid them as they came back down. :)

What a blast! When his friend joined him and we had two arrows to stay away from it got really crazy! What a fun time--that is, until I got tired of looking up. That's when a falling arrow grazed my shoulder. Six inches over...at best I'd still be trying to re-learn my ABC's today, worst-case I could have been dead, real bad.

BB Gun Ricochet
Like Ralphie in, A Christmas Story, I TOO got a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas. I was 9. Just like Ralphie, I put the target right up against a piece of scrap metal, pumped off a shot and I was HIT! On the arm...a foot and a half higher, it could have put my eye out...or gone through the eye and into my brain and I would have been dead, real bad.

Freewheelin' on Benton Hill
We had this steep hill in our neighborhood. We loved to freewheel down the hill on bikes at terrifying speed. (Freewheel=the bravest/ toughest kids put our feet up onto our handle bars--totally off the pedals and unable to brake). At the very bottom of this steep hill was a blind cross street--you couldn't really see the traffic coming in time to save you--you just tried to navigate into a certain long driveway--or you would meet the curb at high speed. Oh yeah, death was possible, by car or by curb.

I was ten when I went freewheeling down Benton Hill for like the hundredth time in my life. Maybe I was cocky. Maybe I just got careless... I almost hit a car. A braking driver, a curb, and a nice big bush saved me from being dead, real bad.

There were others--getting a dart stuck in my cheek--about 2 inches from my eye (I was throwing them into the basement ceiling): going headfirst over the handlebars of my 10-speed and landing on my head, and so on. But the point is made. Though being a boy almost killed me, I survived. You survived. And so did these boys...

COULD THIS BE YOUR CHILD IN THIS SHOPPING CART?



CAUTION: BAD LANGUAGE...VOLUME OFF TO AVOID...


Only "advice" I can give here is...protect your kids all you want. You can't keep them safe every second of the day--even if you're the BEST parent in the whole wide world, and you are constantly hovering. Protective actions are prudent. Freaking out too much due to over-protectiveness will introduce a weirdness into your relationship which will rob your kid(s) of some of the most important things you are to provide as a parent--a sense of safety, security, and confidence in facing life in this big, bad old world.

SO what can you do? Go give your kid(s) a hug, tell them how much you love them. And let them know that if they ever do something stupid that gets them dead real bad...you're gonna have to kill them. But then again, they know that already :)

Click here to read a post on this blog about the teen brain and risk-taking behavior--why it happens and what you can do to try and stop it!

In COMMENTS below, please:

• Tell about times when you were a kid and almost ended up "dead, real bad".


• How do YOU find peace when fear for your child's safety overwhelms you?


• What are some practical things you do to keep your child safe?

Need to compare notes with other parents on all things parenting? Visit the website every parent needs: Click here to visit now!

Have quality conversations with your teenager that don't make you feel like a dork, with 101 Movie Clips That Get Families Talking (Yes, that's a dork-free guarantee!) Click here to learn more!

Ain't Nothin' But a Twin Thang! (Sibling Rivalry x10...and what to do about it)

I have an identical twin. His name is Phil. Mine is James ("Jimmy" way back when, Jim now). So there was no cutesy name stuff happening, thank God. No Jimmy and Timmy, Billy Bobby and Bobby Robby, or Skeeter and Peter. One small grace in an otherwise graceless situation.

Many people would say to us "being a twin must be awesome!" We would just look at the person in amazement, and say (probably in unison), "Now you are just talking like a crazy person!"

Mom used to talk crazy too. I think we were 3-4 when mom started telling us stuff like, "If you ever need a kidney, your brother could give you one of his!" This brought up a few questions:

"What's a kidney?"

"How? Does he reach inside, take it out and hand it over?"

Mom answered our questions (but she had to be wrong--GROSS!) But I couldn't imagine my brother giving me a kidney--at least not without a fight. We fought over food, friends, toys and every other possession...didn't look good for kidney sharing.

You see as twins we were already conditioned in hundreds of different ways to to be enemies, adversaries, competitors...not charitable givers--at least not to one another. If you think sibling rivalry is bad...for twins who shared the same egg and DNA...it's rivalry x 10, I promise you.

It meant, separate birthday party tables (better be the same number of kids at each--and have friends switch tables at mid-party), separate birthday cakes (better be the SAME exact size), same IDENTICAL toys (though when possible, different colors), and absolutely equal treatment in EVERY area from hugs and snuggles, encouragement and praise, to food portions, parental time, attention, interest--everything.

Mom would talk with other mothers who would ask the typical...Who was born first? (me by 6 minutes...na-na-na-na-na-na!) Who walked first? Who talked first? Which one is/ was the best baby? Me and Phil treasured all this information...ammunition in the battle for superiority.

Here is just a small sampling of the constant reminders to me and Phil that we were competitors for the hearts and minds of everyone in our world...

• Mom says there were times when one of us was breast-fed twice...while the other one got nothing. That right there is enough to put us at each other's throats for a lifetime, but I will continue...


• Grandma gave our older brother and sister $10 each for their birthdays. She gave Phil and me $10 to split between us. Yes, this happened. This almost put me in therapy.


• Which of you is smartest? ("Me...duhhhhh!" If people who asked us this had been smarter, we'd have been nicer when responding...)


• Which one of you is the ladies man/ has had the most girlfriends? (This one was extended even onto our girlfriends, "Which one of you has the prettiest girlfriend?" We would also have girls come up to us and decide out loud who was cutest or who had the best personality...nothing like losing that one.)


• Which of you is strongest/ most athletic? Which is better at baseball? Football? Basketball? Faster? Throws farthest? Hits a baseball best? and so on. Might as well say it...who's the REAL man between you two...and who's the sissy?


• Which of you has the most friends? (Well, minus you now for asking, that means I have this many ____.)

And on, and on , and on.

Me and Phil share the same DNA, but we are very different. We have different personalities, temperaments, talents, gifts, interests, opinions--quite a list. At times we can still finish one another's sentences. But not as much anymore. The point is, we are very different and so is every child.

Each child has a different "love language"--a different way each needs to be nurtured, built up, guided, challenged, and disciplined--through hundreds of different words, actions and attitudes that ultimately say, "I love YOU!" The key is for us to strive to treat each child as an individual, to never define one child in comparison to another. We have to refuse to compare our child unfavorably with another as a motivational ploy as well (ex. "Why can't you earn better grades, like your brother/ __________ [someone else's kid]?")

Finally, if you ever meet a twin, look into their eyes with compassion, give them a sympathetic nod that says, "I know". Then give them a $20--or whatever cash you have on you...(cause if Grandma didn't short-change them, some uncle with a bad sense of humor did)

Please respond to the following questions in COMMENTS below...

• What struggles with sibling rivalry have you had in your home? What has worked for you in resolving them? In preventing rivalry?
• So what do you do to make sure your kids feel loved as individuals?
• Oh, or you can just tell us about your painful (or magical) twin experience...

Neutralize the rivalry and build the bonds between your teenagers with the book, 101 Movie Clips That Get Families Talking. Find out more here: http://www.parentconsensus.com/index.php?p=Store

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Two Tykes on Trikes Cross Highway on Quest for Quisp and Quake! Parenting and Nutrition

The plan was perfect:

• Snatch spare change from around house (steal from mom's purse if necessary).


• Drive tricycles to grocery store which was far away (2 miles).


• Purchase Quisp and Quake cereal because mom wouldn't buy sugary cereals for us.

I was 3-years-old when I hatched this scheme. Admittedly, I did have an accomplice, my identical twin brother Phil (that's us above in 1965--with trike!) To this day, I insist (to my mom) it was all Phil's idea.

What inspired our daring caper beyond the lure of sugary cereal? Why the ability to fly of course! You see, if we mailed in 5 Quisp box tops and a few bucks for shipping (we were also willing to take from mom's purse) we would get our own free beanie hat with propeller on top, enabling us to fly around like Quisp! (Watch the 1965 commercial below that got us ALL excited!) Through my skillful negotiation, Phil settled for sending in Quake boxtops for a construction helmet with light! We promised to share. You may remember, Quisp and Quake were always competing...like me and Phil. Watch this...




Sidebar: A previous attempt to fly had not gone well. Me and Phil were convinced we could fly by jumping off the swing set slide trusting an umbrella (and magic!) to not only stop our fall, but to lift us to the rooftops! Yeah. That didn't happen. Phil went first, but being twins, I thought I could succeed where he had failed (competitive). Yeah, so we both suffered the reality of unhindered gravity.

Sidebar to sidebar: The inspiration for this act was not Beavis and Butthead or Bart Simpson, but another show that surely led to surge in child mischief and trips to the hospital --you guessed it--the movie Mary Poppins...but I digress. Back on track...

We had the money. Time for phase two. We revved up the trikes and starting down the road toward Highway 17 in Paramus, New Jersey. We were 10 houses away from our home, down the road and just about to cross a VERY busy avenue that fed right into the 17.

And we would have done it too...had we not been stopped short by a "bossy" crossing guard who stuck her nose where it didn't belong (after all...aren't there 3 year-old's committing serious crime that she SHOULD have been looking out for?). That and she knew mom--yikes!-- (this was back when people knew their neighbors--a long, long time ago, when neighbor=friend, not like now where neighbor=nuisance). Yes, this "crabby lady" was trying to keep us from our adventure and fun. It quickly became clear to us that she did not recognize our advanced trike skills on sub-highways. (What a killjoy!)

Anyway, we were tazered and cuffed...I mean we were walked to a nearby home, and mom was called, and boy did we get a spankin! (Oops, all that was an extended typo, so to re-interpret what I just said--and to please the child and protective services types out there--my mom "proceeded to persuade us, through verbal reasoning and AND 'manually applied physical motivation' that our behavior could be improved--but that we were so special and good!")

Right now you are asking...why? WHY do two 3-year-old's come up with a knucklehead scheme like this JUST for CEREAL? (Aside from the fact that men and boys have a relationship with cereal I don't think any woman understands...) Simply this--the forbidden fruit principle--that and the lure of the exotic and exciting--(remember how exciting Quisp looked on TV!!).

Our parents did not allow us to eat sugary cereals. It was like treasure to us and we were on the hunt! Soft drinks were rarely found in our home. Oh, and there were no debates on what we ate...we ate what mom cooked. Corn Flakes and the like for breakfast. No McDonalds either...that was a rare treat. Dairy Queen, hardly ever. Maybe a few times a year we would get that. I can remember every one I think. Some would define this as abuse.

After twenty years of parentin' I grudgingly admit my parents got this right. Yes this parenting "expert"* is serving himself up as a cautionary tale for you. Me and Karen got it wrong with our kids--we of the "kindler/ gentler" parenting generation--a generation that said too often, "my dad and/or mom used to MAKE us ____________ so I will NEVER make my kids _______." (Fill in the blank with stuff like: "eat vegetables", "go to bed a certain time," "wear non-designer clothes," "share toys," "be nice," "do chores," "go outside," "respect 'elders'--even imperfect ones," "go to church", "realize the world does not revolve around you," "eat dinner as a family." On and on it goes...add your below in COMMENTS)

Too often we allowed the food our kids ate to be debatable. Sometimes we dug in our heels on it, but we blinked before our kids did. They've had way too much McDonalds. Way too many soft drinks, too little agua (water). And their dental bills tell the story. (Did you know that one KEY reason why kids are so tired and unfocused at school is because they are not properly hydrated, i.e. they need to drink more water?)

PLEASE, avoid our mistake. Be sure your kids, from a young age, learn proper nutrition and develop healthy eating habits. This will require a lot of discipline on your part, and you will be denied the warm fuzzy of being your child's "friend", instead feeling the cold sting of the realization that you are the "parent", but in the long run, your good work will be rewarded. Hang tough! Don't be a push-over on this. There is too much on the line.

Chances are your 3-year-old won't come up with a scheme involving stealing, driving a trike across a busy road on a quest for cereal...but if they do...you've done your job.

(* A friend of mine defines "expert" as an "ex" (used to be), "spurt" (water squirting) or, "a has-been drip under pressure.")

In the COMMENTS below, please tell readers good, practical ways to teach children to eat healthy. Share some of your own house "rules" and best practices for sticking to the healthy eating plan for your home.

To see the #1 book for training your child to eat right, click on this link: Toddler Café: Fast, Healthy, and Fun Ways to Feed Even the Pickiest Eater

If you are a blogger with a legitimately helpful health and nutrition blog for parents and families (not an ad dump or a product review/ promotion site), please leave your link below so people can find you.

Visit the website EVERY parent needs! Click here to visit now!

Have quality conversations with your teenager that don't make you feel like a dork, with 101 Movie Clips That Get Families Talking (Yes, that's a dork-free guarantee!) Click here to learn more!

Dad Beats Naked Boy Found in His Daughter's Room: Families in the News, Part 4

"DELTONA, Fla.--An angry Deltona father whacked his teenage daughter's boyfriend with a metal pipe after finding the boy naked in his daughter's room."

It kinda' went like this...

--Dad hears sounds coming from daughter's room around 3-4 in the AM.

--Dad proceeds to arm himself with a pipe.
--Dad proceeds to daughter's room and opens door.

--In the dark, father sees a naked "man" standing on his daughter's bed.

--Dad proceeds to beat the "man" about the head with aforementioned pipe.

--Turns out "man" was his daughter's boyfriend who had been let in through a window by the daughter so they could have consensual sex. I believe both teens were 15-years-old.

--The father did not even know his daughter HAD a boyfriend. (Doh!??)

--The girl had been going out with the boy for 16 months. (Double Doh! !!??)

--Dad is arrested.

(I believe now charges against the father have been dropped.)

I asked my fellow bloggers in blogcatalog what they thought of this dad's actions and if he was in the right. Boy, did I get an earful! The question got a whopping 222 responses over three days--the hottest discussion topic on blogcatalog for 2 days!! (only discussion bigger was: "What do you do to get people...ANYBODY to read your blog?").

Folks were divided about 50-50 (maybe a slight lean to the teen):

The pro-dad...

"....yeah he had a right to do what he did. He (boy) shouldn't of been in her house without his knowledge so he should of been seen as someone who broke into his house....Back in the day if I got caught in a girlfriends house naked I would of gotten my a** beat just for the fact. Now imagine if the father thought I was attempting to rape his daughter, I would of had a gun aimed at my head or a knife at my ______"

And the pro-teen:

"She had sex with her boyfriend, like many of us did when we were teenagers, like many people have since the beginning of freaking time.The father could have behaved like a rational adult rather than a raving lunatic. He needs to pay for what he did, he over reacted in a horrendous way and deserves jail time."

And as one might expect, a few strayed far away from topic...

"I'm hungry, who's cooking???"

So where do you weigh in on this, parents?

Was this dad right in what he did?

What are some OTHER issues that need attention here?

Make your opinions known by leaving a comment below!

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For a sparsely detailed article on this, see: http://www.wesh.com/news/17459795/detail.html

Teen Plans Mother's Murder to Pay for Breast Implants? Families in the News Part 3

"FOUNTAIN, Colo. — A Colorado teenager hired men to kill his mother so he could use her money to get breast implants for his girlfriend, police said."

It is reported that this precious 18-year-old son, Nikita, planned to have mom killed, sell her car, and use money in her bank account to get his girlfriend breast implants! Mom was attacked--bludgeoned using a small baseball bat--but she survived.

Here is the link to the story: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,429166,00.html

What do you think about this kid? Why do you think this happened? Comment below.

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The "Pre-Perfect" Parent

I am 46 and I still battling my middle school nemesis--acne. This keeps me in touch with the whole teen experience and sometimes makes me question God about the unfairness of life (Why God, WHY???). Though I love taking skinventory as much as the next TEENAGE guy...gets a little old at 46.


This added to the fact that as I get older, perhaps predictably, I am getting more tuned in with the whole disease and sickness thing. A little bit of blood on the toothbrush? (Mouth cancer?) A persistent headache? (Brain tumor?) A pain in my calf muscles? (Deep vein thrombosis?) Chest pain? (Was that a heart attack? Was that? Is that a cold sweat? Is there a sense of impending doom?-?-?) That mole is bigger...I measure it every day...it IS bigger (skin cancer?) Red patches on my legs? (Flesh-eating disease?)

That last one was what brought me to the dermatologist yesterday (well, and the acne...and that mole). I was sitting in the waiting room and looking at the guy with the big bandage on his nose (is there still a nose left under there?--note to self: 1) SUNSCREEN!! 2) No more "Fake & Bake" in tanning beds), people with severe acne who refused to make eye contact (still, even a decade or so after their teen years), and other people whose affliction I could not see, but imagined was probably something scabby and rashy. I was disrupted from my gross-out imaginations by a young girl my son's age who called for me and walked me back to the exam room.

Once there the young woman wanted me to SHOW her my "problems," which I very self-consciously and reluctantly did. (Sidebar: I have this problem. Unlike every woman, and like every man, I still like to delude myself into thinking I am attractive and I've still got game. Why? I don't know. I am happily married and love my wife.) Nevertheless, having to show this young woman my physical flaws pushed me pushed me right out of my delusion. Put me in my place basically--reality check.

The doc walks in. I make a joke, pointing to the illustrated guide to skin on the wall that names all the parts that make up this, the largest organ (average human skin weighs 6 pounds by the way), I say, "Wow, I didn't know skin was THAT complicated."

He looks and says, without missing a beat, "Wow, me either!"

I know right away, he's the doc for me. I want a guy who can crack a joke before he tells me the bad news about that mole.

The 5 minute, $50 exam is rapid-fire. The mole is okay. A new spray should work for the psoriasis. As far as the face, "well, we'll just have you use a little Elidel" (it costs $133 AFTER insurance for 6 ounces). "We'll clear up your face (my face ia always red) so we can see if any of this is "pre-cancerous, and..." he continued on, but I didn't.

"PRE-CANCEROUS??????" I KNEW IT. All this worrying, hours on the internet examing skin cancer and every other sickness, pestilence and plague had paid off.

So BEFORE I got home and Googled this all out, I played around a little bit with the whole idea of "pre-cancerous." What does it MEAN???:
"Pre-make out your will?"
"Pre-you are so gonna die?"
Or is it a more kinder, gentler, like...
"Pre-just keep rubbing a little bit of this on it?"

Because I am easily bored, even by ruminations on the fear of imminent death, I also started playing around with the word "pre" in other, more positive contexts, as in:
I am possibly a "Pre-genius" or
I could be a "Pre-President of the United States"
I am for sure "Pre-insane (as is any parent of middle-schoolers or any teen girl)."

I finally struck on, "I could be a 'Pre-Perfect' parent."
A bunch of things came flooding in. I wish I was a better dad. I wish I was smarter about it and that I had more wisdom. I wish I was more loving and more attentive. I wish I knew how to handle more situations for sure. I wish I felt more confident in my role (I feel like an impostor sometimes--will the "real dad" please take over!) I wish I didn't lose sleep when I take a tough stand with my kids and I know they "hate" me at the moment.

At the end of this negative rumination, I got back on the right track by reminding myself:
1) Parenting is a LEARNING EXPERIENCE for us, thank God not pass/ fail. It's gonna be messy sometimes. There is room for mistakes, weakness and finding our feet.
2) I am a better parent than I used to be. And far more confident. I remind myself of specifics.
3) I think about how much I love my kids. Love covers a multitude of sins.
4) Since I've begun reaching out to other parents, in real life and through my website http://www.parentconsensus.com/, I have far fewer "negative rumination" times than I used to. (One big reason I started the website was to see if I was on track and to get wisdom and help from other parents--who are better at this than me.)
5) Parenting perfection is a myth. We are just all at varying levels of doing this thing wrong--yes even you.


(By the way, according to my Googling and Ask.com-ing, "precancerous" means "showing pathological changes that may be preliminary to malignancy" BUT that early recognition of these is key to preventing skin cancer AND exercise and caffeine work together to kill off precancerous skin cells.) On that note..



...I have to leave all you "pre-perfect" parents, I am running off to Starbucks...then the gym...fighting the "pre-cancer."





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