Tuesday, 15 October 2013

Thanksgiving Decorations

A holiday snapshot from Pop Culture

For Thanksgiving (CDN) my wife puts out a glass vase full of small decorative white pumpkins on the dining room table. My six year old tears into the room and skids to a halt staring at them.

 


HIM: What is that?

HER: It's a decoration.

HIM: No, it's not. If you set it on fire then THAT would be a real decoration.

He tears off again making robot and machine gun sounds. He has a point.

Thursday, 10 October 2013

My Parental Failure Reposted on The Good Men Project

Working Out is Like Parenting: An Exercise in Failure


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Being a good parent ain’t easy; it helps Christopher Sweeney to remember scenes from his own childhood

Every so often I wonder, am I any good at this? By ‘this’ I mean parenting. And by ‘every so often’ I mean like maybe once an hour. I can’t remember if I’ve used this analogy before in the blog but I compare parenting to a kind of approach to weight lifting I was introduced to in high school. It’s called working out to failure...

Follow the link to the full piece on The Good Men Project:

http://goodmenproject.com/families/working-out-is-like-parenting-an-exercise-in-failure/

The original piece appeared in a slightly different form in Pop Culture here:

http://popculture-superdad.blogspot.ca/2013/05/blast-from-past.html




Tuesday, 8 October 2013

POP CULTURE: A Boy Named... Who?


A BOY NAMED... WHO?


 
I love the Johnny Cash song, “A Boy Named Sue”. You can sing it; it tells a story; and it’s funny as @#$%. It’s about a boy who was abandoned by his father, leaving him with nothing but the name “Sue”. This made for a hard life for young Sue, who had to learn to look after himself on account of his name. Sue swears that when he finds his father, he’ll kill him. Hilarious, right?

When Sue sees the “low down snake” playing stud in a saloon, he introduces himself and punches Dad between the eyes.  Down goes Dad but comes up with a knife and takes off part of Sue’s ear. Then commences a fight that sends them crashing through the wall out into “the mud and the blood and the beer”. In the end, Sue draws his gun first and Dad smiles. He tells Sue he knew he wouldn’t be around to raise Sue right, so he gave him a name which would kill him or made him stronger. Tearful reconciliation follows.

While Sue’s father’s methods were flawed, he wanted Sue to be able to take care of himself when he wasn’t around. All dads hope to teach our kids that - even though we may go about it in questionable ways, like my Freedom 16 Plan. My three boys are already measuring my throne with their eyes but, as I explained to one when we were playing FourSquare, I’ll always be the king. If they want to rule the roost, they better find their own. Because I love them, I have instituted the F16P: I raise them to be able to look after themselves should they, after 16, feel they cannot handle my kingly ways.

I WANT them to stick around longer than that (well, until their schooling is done) but, whenever they strike out on their own, it’ll be comforting to know that they, like Sue, can handle themselves. My lessons may be more about cooking, driving a car and succeeding in a job interview but there’ll be some back-alley fighting moves in there too.

Thursday, 3 October 2013

Pillow Talk

 
Another snapshot of life here at Pop Culture.

As we snuggle at bedtime at lights out, my six year leans over and confides in me.

“Daddy, I know God’s secrets.”

“Huh?!  Really? How do you know that?”

“I saw a wizard today and his shadow told me.”

I alternate between concern that he is totally insane and awe at how incredibly cool that is.

Thursday, 26 September 2013

La Vache Qui...

A small snapshot of life around Pop Culture.

6 year old son "toots" right in front of me. 

ME: Hey, don't you have something to say?

HIM: It wasn't me.

ME: Oh? Who was it then?

HIM: A cow.

ME: (trying not to laugh) A cow? How did I miss a cow in the bedroom?

HIM: It's invisible. And it went under the bed. And the cow is not me.

ME: (dissolving into laughter).



Wednesday, 18 September 2013

Big Balls

I regularly get irritated at the junk masquerading as science in the media. I guess I could say just that I regularly get irritated. Or testy (this word choice will pay off later, you'll see)."Burning Man"? It could be my nickname. I regularly blow my stack, let off steam, whatever you want to call it.



I am confrontational. I come by it naturally - in my family, when two members get into an argument it's like a chemical cue is released, alerting all members to congregate and get in on the fight. Something akin to how sharks can sense a drop of blood in the water from miles away. I am cocky. I may in fact be described as a "macho" guy. I have what are colloquially known as "Big Balls".

Thus my testiness with the release of a recent "study" that links being a good dad to having smaller testicles. What a load of bollocks. Of course a stir has been created in the chattering classes by this publication (not to mention a run on codpieces). It is silly science, there are a number of problems with the study and the conclusions drawn. First of all, what makes a good dad? The researchers focus on diaper changing and the like rather than on coaching sports teams for example - both of which can involve dads in important ways in a child's life.

Also, what is the cause and what is the effect? Previous studies have shown men's testosterone drops after becoming fathers (and apparently many of those desirable mates had higher than normal testosterone to begin with). Researchers aren't sure that a similar physical change hasn't occurred below the belt.

Lastly there is a great deal of variation in the study which seems to point at a certain amount of choice by the men involved. Some men with big balls are good dads and some men with small balls are not. A study like this makes me shake my head anyway. What is the POINT exactly? Other than to get people all riled up?

I read a fascinating book recently, "How The Brain Changes Itself" by Dr. Norman Doidge, which discusses, among numerous other instances of brain plasticity, how when people fall in love their actual physical brains change. I think most of us who have had kids know what I'm talking about when I say you fall harder in love with your children than you can imagine. It proves the old adage that you can't wait to be ready before you become a parent, you become ready by becoming a parent - literally.

There is no doubt that I radically changed in the way I saw and related to the world when my guys were born. Talk about baby brain. I was totally messed up each time - thought I was going crazy. I would cry singing Molly Malone to them (it was so tragic how she died so young!) Now I kinda wonder what the hell was going on there. It makes sense to me that men change radically and physically when they have children - the science supports it. And this is a good thing, right? You need to change to become a good Dad (or Mum) It's called growing up.

So, ladies, you can put your calipers/scales away - no need to measure the heft of the coconuts before choosing a mate because,
 
 
while men may have smaller balls after they become involved fathers, one thing is clear:
they have BIGGER HEARTS.

Friday, 9 August 2013

POP CULTURE: ALAS! EARWAX!


 

We’re big Harry Potter fans in our house – the books, not the lousy movies. I have read them, my wife has read them and our oldest has reread them so many time I found myself involved in a ridiculous argument. It went something like: “You are rereading Harry Potter AGAIN?” “So? I want to read Harry Potter.” “This is ridiculous. You have to read something else. No more Potter!” “You can’t stop me from reading Harry Potter!” “I... You’re right. Forget it.” And I slunk the hell out of there – another parenting fiasco.

We love to read our kids the books. I read the first one to our middle son before my wife took the project over (even though my character voices are much superior). I was reminded how awesome the headmaster, Dumbledore, is. Harry, as an orphan, is looking for replacement parents throughout the books to help him grow into the man (wizard) he needs to be. Though his mother is central to his story (she sacrificed herself to allow him to live), Harry is searching primarily for a Father figure. By far the most important of these is Dumbledore.

Initially, I was amazed by Dumbledore’s willingness to permit  Harry to go on these risky adventures without interfering.  This is contrary to current hyper-involved bubble-wrapped parenting. Dumbledore knows Harry must undergo risks to BECOME the hero. He has to try and fail. Dumbledore doesn’t do Harry’s homework for him, he doesn’t micromanage or call from the sidelines about how to do things (something I am prone to).

Also, when Harry asks Dumbledore to tell him the truth, he gives a great answer:

“I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to... I shall not, of course, lie.”

He gives Harry what Harry can reasonably handle but doesn’t try and “protect” Harry from the world.

Lastly, Dumbledore regularly demonstrates the quality which makes all kids love him: a childlike curiosity and humour about life. At the end of the book, he tries one of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans - even though he had a bad experience in his youth with a vomit-flavoured one. So, like Dumbledore, I try to give my kids permission to fail. Learning to deal with failure and to keep trying those beans (even though the next one might taste like earwax) is a very important lesson.

A version of this article appears in the August/September issues of Village Living Magazine: West Village and Village Living Magazine: Mt. Pleasant.