Jeff2_large

Daddy Daydreamer

Bedtime rituals keep me connected with my kids

We may engender a bit of clinginess, but I'll gladly take it

Eldest 3 hours old

When my eldest son turned seven and we celebrated his birthday, I found myself daydreaming. I thought of the day he was born, returning from the hospital on a hot, sticky August night. My wife and I lay in bed and stared in joyous wonder at this newfound life we created. So small, so beautiful – so dependent.

She breastfed him, held him and . . .

Read More

January 07, 2016

Explaining the value of school to a kindergartner proved harder than I thought

I felt conflicted forcing my child to attend school

Kids getting on school bus

“Daddy! I doan wanna go to school!” my youngest, aged 5 at the time, desperately pleaded. “I wanna stay home wit' you!” he sobbed, eyes reddened by salty tears.

“You have to son, it's your job.”

“Why, Dad?”

“To learn things. To make friends,” I responded nonchalantly.

“But I have friends already. And you teach me things. Why do I . . .

Read More

December 23, 2015

What’s wrong with declaring my occupation as stay-at-home dad?

I am the economic equivalent of a zero

Dad and boys at BMX park

This essay originally appeared in The Globe and Mail on April 30, 2015.

As a stay-at-home dad, I am the economic equivalent of a zero.

This revelation came to me at my local Costco where, upon checkout, I am often asked to apply for their new cash-back credit card. Usually, I politely decline, preferring to leave the crowded store with my . . .

Read More

December 10, 2015

How my kids taught me that some rules just aren't black-and-white

I told my boys not to swap away toys I'd just bought them. Then my line in the sand crumbled

Lego plane with Lloyd

This essay originally appeared in The Globe and Mail on May 29, 2014.

Every schoolday, I pick up my kids at the bus stop and greet them with a big smile. I get toothy grins in return. Sometimes we walk home, sometimes we waddle. Sometimes it’s a piggyback.

Ambling home one day, my eldest son announces: “I’m gonna trade toys with my friend – . . .

Read More

Posted in: toystrading

November 26, 2015

Dreams of a stay-at-home dad

At times I wonder if I made the right decision. Then a pot of potatoes boils over or a grilled cheese starts to burn

Dad and and son sleeping

This essay originally appeared in The Globe and Mail on March 3, 2014.

The year was 1978. I was 4. The morning light muffled its way through my pale bedroom curtains and turned an opaque blue. My mother was lying beside me, smiling, the skin of her face so smooth.

I looked up at her and felt at ease, at home with the one who loved me . . .

Read More

November 12, 2015

Archive