Eventually you have to come to the realization that, no matter how hard you try, your kids have to sometimes fend for themselves. I learned this from Henry.

Henry has a problem with my daughter, so he also has a problem with me. For all of you who are wondering how I could write about a child and use his name in a story, let me put your minds at ease. Henry is not his real name. The film Regarding Henry happened to be on television last week. Don’t ask me to rationalize how my brain works. continue reading »

The old saying goes that there are no small parts, only small actors. I believe that, and have tried to impress that feeling in my daughter as she enters into a foreign world – her first school musical.

I have experience in this world, having performed in three school plays during my time at Archbishop Ryan High School for Boys (this was before the co-ed revolution). I performed in two plays at Ryan and one at Nazareth Academy. Hey, all-girls schools have to get their talent from somewhere, right?   continue reading »

The summer is ending, and my daughter has begun her yearly excitement at the prospect of her impending birthday. She watches each commercial and scours the magazines, looking for yet another present to suggest to her parents. Already, I’ve been told that we are allowed to buy three different types of cake. Which one, thankfully, is our decision.

I understand this giddiness. Celebrating the anniversary of my birth was always a big deal to me. But now, on the eve of my 51st birthday, I’ve let go of the ideas of revelry, in favor of reflection.

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Like most parents, it would make me happy if my children liked what I like. I had dreams of going to the park and having a catch with my son, or getting my kids interested in literature or classic films. But those plans fall by the wayside when your children find interests of their own.

Keep reading to learn about Pat’s son’s real interests, and how Pat has incorporated them into his life. Photos from their SEPTA tour are below, as well. continue reading »

As I’ve said to my son on far too many occasions, I am not that far removed from my high school years to have forgotten what it was like to be 16 years old. I remember the awkwardness and the boredom in school. I can still recall getting angry with my parents over chores or behavior.

But I always made it a point to draw the line at outward disdain. I also never made the mistake of comparing my father to, say, one of the most hated men on the planet. Sadly, a play on that monster’s name has become my son’s favorite moniker for me in his most stressful of times.

Yes, in my home, I am sometimes referred to as “Dadolf Hitler.” Or, on his nicer days, it is toned down to “Dad Jong-il.” These names don’t pop up all the time. If I ask him to feed the cat or make his bed, I might simply be greeted by the anonymous grunting that is part of the teenager’s code. But when something heinous like homework or cleaning is brought into the mix, grunting often turns to comparing me to men who’ve brought death and misery to millions. continue reading »

As the saying goes – the more things change, the more they stay the same. We go from children clinging to our parents, to teens who think that they know everything, to adults out to change the world, to older adults who know that change doesn’t happen that quickly. Then we look down and see our children clinging to us, knowing that in a blink of an eye, they pull away. continue reading »