Let’s redefine “all” for each of us.

Posted on June 28, 2012 by Stephen Abbott

The need to “have it all” is a topic that won’t go away, and the recent story in The Atlantic pushed it front and centre for moms once again. And for those who think that moms are the only ones burdened by this, Lisa Hickey at the Good Men Project and Toure at Time do a great job reminding us that perhaps many dads also want it all and don’t get it.

There is certainly a lot of fuss over having it all, but it’s actually not possible. It has never been possible. ‘All’ is not only elusive, it’s inherently contradicting. Perhaps before we go any further we need to redefine what ‘all’ means to us, individually.

I want it all.

I want to be a great dad who spends every possible minute with my son, never missing a milestone or moment. I want to play with him and support him when he needs me. Nothing makes me happier than being in his presence and part of his life.

I want to excel at my career. I want to be in demand from organizations, schools and though leaders around the world. I want to inspire leaders to build great brands that support purposeful goals, and I want to be paid handsomely for my time and insight.

I want to be a loving, caring and supportive husband. I love being married to my best friend, and I cherish the time we spend together. I want that long walk on the beach to go on forever.

I want to explore the world on my own, free from any obligations. I want to get lost in my own thoughts, my own adventures, and make choices that impact no one but me.

I want to visit my family on vacations, and I want to relax on a tropical beach. I want to own an estate measured in days-to-cross and I want to minimize my footprint. I want to play recklessly and I want to be ultra productive.

But I know I make choices, and those choices will affect all my other choices. It’s my choice to be a parent; it’s my choice to work; it’s my choice to be married; it’s my choice to honour myself; it’s my choice make choices.

I don’t have it all. But I love being this imperfect version of me. And that is ‘all’.

Posted in Culture, Current News, Inspirations, Thinking Differently, Values | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I, Rock.

Posted on June 7, 2012 by Stephen Abbott

Have you ever noticed how crying is the only emotion that qualifies a dad of truly being comfortable with their emotions? For some reason, being openly happy or angry is somehow showing less emotion.

The reason, of course, is that crying is still somewhat taboo for men. So if a dad is crying—out of sadness or fear—it must be real. I suggest that showing emotions isn’t really the issue here. It’s what you do with your emotions that truly matters.

Pop culture gives us two types of the typical dad. The stoic, tough, cold pillar of stability who quietly guides his family through right and wrong, and the cheerful, kind and warm-hearted guy who wears his emotions on his sleeve and gushes love and support—a guy who’s not afraid to cry or be scared in public.

The dad is strive to be is somewhere between the two.

Emotions are powerful. Owning and being present with our true emotions shows real courage and awareness. But I also believe one of the most powerful aspects of being a dad is the ability to move through a difficult situation with strength and purpose—limiting any damage—and the ability to channel our current emotion into an appropriate behaviour.

For me, that means being a rock—a stable touchstone for those around me when passions and chaos run high. It means being able to stay focused on a positive outcome when all the adrenaline in my system and everyone else’s says otherwise. It means I deflect aggression thrown at me—mean, insulting and threatening aggression—and stay on point. Being a dad is to stay aware and stay in control of myself.

That is not to say I don’t have or show emotions. Nor am I implying that those who do lack courage or ability. It’s just that in my experience, someone needs to stand firm in the face chaos or adversity, when the rush of emotion clouds sensible reason and opens the door to vulnerability. Social vultures pray on people who are emotionally weakened. Being a rock is important, and I believe that is where the Really Cool Dads shine. It’s a parent challenge I accept.

Really Cool Dads live their emotions. Our hearts burst at the sound of our child’s giggle; fear percolates when we see our toddler climb to the top of the monkey bars; pride swells at the dance recital; anger rises in the presence of a bully; we are overwhelmed with joy when our families grow and we are crushed when we lose family and friends.

But a lack of tears isn’t the sign that we aren’t comfortable with emotion. Rather, perhaps we are so comfortable with our emotions, that we recognize their power. The consequences of leaving ourselves vulnerable—as well as those we care for—is just too risky.

Don’t accuse me of not having emotions—or conforming to archaic stereotypes—simply because I don’t cry when you expect me to. I am comfortable in my emotion. I am comfortable being myself and owning my feelings. But I am also a rock when my family needs me.

Posted in Inspirations, Thinking Differently | 5 Comments

It’s okay to celebrate moms with P&G

Posted on May 24, 2012 by Stephen Abbott

P&G’s latest ad has insulted some dads. As part of their 2012 Olympic campaign, the global marketer has a tear-inducing ad that watches as a baby girl grows into an Olympic athlete, and recognizes mom for all her support. It’s a pretty typical ad supporting a significant campaign. And a good one, too. There’s plenty of pro-mom buzz.

Now a group at Care2 is angry about the omission of dad, and has launched a petition against P&G to address the issue. (Here’s the link if you want to read the petition and support it. I haven’t supported it, yet.)

I’ll admit, when I first saw the ad I my pro-dad pride kicked in. “What about her father?”, was one of my reactions. “Isn’t dad worthy of thanks?” But then I saw it again. Nowhere does the ad imply that mom is the only parent who could have done this, or that if dad were involved the child would be lucky enough to show up on time, let alone win Olympic gold.

Just because it’s pro-mom doesn’t make it anti-dad, and I think a petition takes it too far. As much as the petition wants us (and P&G) to know the stats behind dads and kids and athletic success, the ad doesn’t diminish the role of fathers. Pushing this ad into the agenda—appearing jealous of the attention mom gets—misses the more important point. Don’t reduce parenting to a gender war.

Unlike the recent Huggies controversy that used bumbling dads as the focus of the campaign, the only thing P&G does is not mention dad at all. Hardly “offensive”. Unfortunate, perhaps. The ad is not actually making fun of dad or belittling our contribution; the viewer is free to think whatever they want about dad (but I’d bet they don’t think about him at all). The ad is clearly for mom, about mom.

P&G figures that women (moms) purchase a large number of its products—I’m pretty sure they’d have some stats on it. This ad targets to them, and it makes its point without cheap “we’re better than dad” humour or “mom is so overworked” piousness. It doesn’t feed any story other than the value of a mom’s love and support, and that is okay.

I am all for standing up for the importance of dads, and challenging the stereotypes that perpetuate silly assumptions about our ability to parent; just read my Manifesto. But as parents, we also want to join in the celebration of great moms, as long as doing so doesn’t demean dad.

If this campaign evolves, and P&G uses old cliches and poor stereotypes, I will change my mind. But for now, we’re still good.

UPDATE: July 5, 2012
Take a look at the petition. Currently at 11% of it’s goal, some of the comments that support it are border on radical. Some people are seriously misguided about the difference between being marginalized vs not being the centre of attention, and what this means to society.

Posted in Current News, Marketing | Tagged , , , , , | 8 Comments

Non-threatening Advice

Posted on May 23, 2012 by Stephen Abbott

One of my pet peeves is a fake threat; a threat so outrageous that it’s clear to everyone within earshot that the parent doesn’t have the courage to follow-up. It’s clear to the child, too.

“If you don’t stop crying, we’re leaving the airport and we’re not going to Disneyland.”
“Do you want me to call grandma and tell her we’re not coming over to celebrate her birthday.”
“If you stay out past 10pm, you’re grounded for a year.”
“If you don’t get good grades, you’ll spend the whole summer at school.”

It’s one of the rules my wife and I agreed on before we started our family. We won’t threaten something to which we aren’t willing to commit.

Before I became a parent, a mother who was a coworker of mine once brought a plastic garbage bag filled with LEGO—about 15 pounds—in to work. She dropped it on my desk, saying that she had threatened her kids that if they didn’t clean it up she would give it all away. We’re talking about hundreds of dollars worth.

The kids hadn’t cleaned it up. She packed it up, brought it in to work and gave it to me.

She didn’t think twice about it. Stunned, I told her I would keep it for her while she calmed down. She told me she was calm; she was simply carrying through on her consequence. This mom was more proud of her parenting than pissed at the cost.

I didn’t open the bag and add the blocks to my own collection for years. Long after we both moved on in our careers, the bag still sat in the corner of my room as a stark reminder of one of the most powerful parenting skills; calm conviction.

I never asked her if she regretted making the threat, and I have since lost touch with her. I don’t know if her rambunctious young boys grew into decent young men. I like to think they did.

As witness to other parents before we had our child, my wife and I agreed that fake threats were wrong and lazy. As parents we’ve learned to choose consequences carefully, and not let the extreme emotions of the moment frazzle good judgement. We’ve learned to support each other and catch poor judgement before it takes root. We’ve also learned that even if the threat crosses to the silly side (and sometimes it does), we’ll need to support each other and accept it—a consequence for our own lapse.

A single fake threat undermines any future consequence. If kids know you’ll cave, they have the time, and the motivation, to make you squirm.

Posted in Rules | Leave a comment