I have an eleven-year old daughter in sixth grade and she is a voracious reader. She loves challenging math problems and brain teasers. Three months ago she taught herself how to create three-dimensional works of art on her computer. And, she tinkers, loves taking things apart, using components from this and motors from that to rig a desk fan or book light. 

Last week, her older sister's light switch was rendered inoperable. So we had our electrician friend replace it, but Little Sis would not allow the old switch to be trashed. She took it apart and knew that one day it might operate a gizmo that might make her life easier.

My eleven-year old didn't always have the most self-confidence. She wanted to be accepted by her peers and sometimes she just wasn't. She wasn't always very confident with who she was, and might even try to hide parts of her true nature from her peers. 

Earlier this week, she dragged me and her mom to her school at 7:30 pm to examine stars with high-powered mini-telescopes. She's a part of the Future Scientists club at her school, and this night was a culminating activity. I heard kids talking about Pleiades, novae, Orion's Belt, Cygnus X, and Jupiter's moons. It took me about half an hour to realize that my daughter was the only girl there looking at the sky... and she was fine with it. 


She tells me that she's a self-proclaimed geek. The reasons: all of her reading, math, science, technology and inventions. And, I am so proud of her, not so much because of all she does, and not because she is a geek. I'm proud of her because she is now okay calling herself a geek. She has embraced the person she always was. And, as a result, she's not so concerned about what others think. Because of that, she now is accepted by her peers more than ever.


I don't know how many parents have to deal with a child who struggles with others and themselves, but my wife and I were fortunate to have championed who she has always been and not try to change into anything different. It took time but when she began to accept her "geekiness", others did as well.

She's a cute young lady, plays basketball, loves to sing, but she's also a geek. She now loves that about her, as do I.


photo courtesy of ©iStockphoto.com/chrisgramly

A father decides to punish his kid for bullying another student at their middle school. So, he had his youngster hold up a sign that explained what he did and the consequences of his actions, took a picture of it, and shared it on social media. Here's the full story.

Part of his punishment includes apologizing, landscaping and doing exercise at 4:30 in the morning.

This dad obviously is doing something about his child's inappropriate behavior, but some argue that he's going about it the wrong way. They claim that public humiliation makes things worse, and that the exercise in the morning is a form of abuse.

I want to know what you think. 

My two-cents: the bullying inflicted upon the other kid may actually be the abuse. Had the father decided to strike his child as a form of punishment may have been a form of abuse. but, to wake up early is not abuse in my book. To exercise is not abuse in my eyes. And, to have to wear a scarlet letter on social media is a way to remember what one does has consequences.

Three cheers for the dad of the year!

(image courtesy of ©MorgueFile.com/anitapeppers)

My teen daughter has almost always been a really great kid. When she was younger, she was always so kind and considerate to the family, her friends, even strangers. She would look people in the eye and smile. She'd listen to what they had to say. She would ask if she could help and would often times make herself a bit uncomfortable so that others were comfortable.

Then, the teen years hit. This child rarely makes eye contact, staring at her phone all day long. She asks for this, and expects that. When she gets an item at the store or a package in the mail, she opens it, takes the contents to her room, and leaves the packaging for someone else to deal with. She's knows all of her little sister's buttons, and her button-pushing finger has an itchy trigger.

It used to be that the earth revolved around the sun, but in the past two years, it all revolves around her... and I don't like it. Not one bit.

When I complain to my friends about this change in her, they assure me it's not as bad as it seems. And, they remind me how wonderful she is: polite (to them), taking honors classes, cares about her grades, is on the cheer team, raises money for cancer research, has wonderful friends, isn't dating yet, doesn't sneak out, swear, smoke or drink. 

So, why am I having so much trouble with this? It's because I know who she once was and I miss that very nice, caring young lady. Yet, the truth is that this is what happens during the teen years. The world really does revolve around them (at least in their minds). 

 It's tough for us parents to have to live with this, but it's not a cake walk for them either. I remember being a teen, and probably being far worse than my girl. One moment I'd be on Cloud Nine because a girl smiled at me. The next I'd never be able to show my face anywhere to anyone ever again, because of a nose pimple. 


It's like they are making a transformation in a cocoon open for the world to see. the hormone cocktail Mother Nature throws at our teens makes them moody, self-centered, and unstable. 


So, how do we make our way through this time? Remember that the child that entered this cocoon will be there on the other side when all is said and done. I know my daughter is really caring and loving and polite, and it's just this Mother Nature-Cocoon-Cocktail thing that is making her a little insane.


Is this an excuse to accept the behavior? Heck no! But it is the reason. So, I will wait it out and in a few years my butterfly will emerge, and I will smile again.


And, I long for the day when she has a teen of her own and calls me to complain about her selfishness, because then I am going to laugh my butt off!

Today, my youngest daughter played her last basketball game of the season...they lost...again. And, she didn't score a basket...again.

She's in sixth grade and she started playing in third. She's not a natural on the court by any means. She's not very athletic. She's a bit scrawny. She not a great dribbler, and she doesn't shoot well.

But, get this. I was so proud of her tonight!!! I mean I was really proud of her. She stole the ball so many times. She blocked a few shots. She got more rebounds than anyone else. And, she was on that floor after that ball like no other!

After the game, I told her I was so proud of her. I wanted to tell her, "You were the best rebounder on the team. You are so good at stealing the ball!" But, I didn't. People who are way smarter than I (and there are a lot of them) say that when we praise our children for their accomplishments, we risk that they won't attempt them again.

I think it was Carol Dweck who did a study with young people. They were given a simple puzzle to put together. Half the kids were told they were so smart for making the puzzle. The other half were praised for their effort. Then, the kids were asked if they wanted to try a more challenging puzzle. More kids in the "effort" group attempted the second puzzle, compared to the "smart" group.

Why? Apparently, when we tell kids they rock, they want to keep that "Rock" title, and if they try again, they may fail. If they do, we'll no longer think of them as "rockers". Yet, when we praise a child for their effort or improvement, as long as they keep working hard, they'll get that praise from us again.

So, tonight I told my girl, "You worked so hard tonight. I saw you on the floor over and over again. And, do you remember when you you started this season, how you never jumped for rebounds? Did you see how much you improved tonight? I loved watching you tonight!" Hopefully, she'll want to play again next season.


image courtesy of ©iStockphoto.com/GlobalStock

Yesterday I read that the average four-year old asks 437 questions a day...A DAY!!! I have no idea if this statement is true, but I liked the premise enough to run with it and write this post.

So, let's assume that your preschooler really does ask an excess of 400 questions a day. If it's not 437, it sure does seem like it is, doesn't it? Little kids ask so many questions, and it wears on us, right? 

"Why do you put make-up on?"
"How does the chicken get into the egg?"
"Will I have wrinkles like that when I get older?"
"Will I always be a girl?"
"Can you fall asleep with your eyes open?
"What about standing up?

It's cute at first, but the truth is, we have things to do. We've got to take a shower, put gas in the car, answer emails, wash dishes, make lunches, answer the phone. The list goes on. We can't be bothered by answering questions all day, can we? So, we get to the point where it just gets to be too much and we tell them to stop, to go away and do something else, to watch TV or play with Legos.

And, eventually they grow out of it, right?... Or do we just chastise them out of it? Do we tell them to stop enough that they eventually do, and that sense of wonder begins to fade?

I teach third grade, and at times my students have questions that I can't address immediately. I have to be sure we cover the material. There are also times when I want them to so badly to ponder and ask and wonder, and I get nothing. I have learned in the classroom that instead of squelching their questions, that I have them jot the question down for us to address later. Or, at times, I have them find their own answer on their iPads (we're fortunate to have one for every student at my school).

We want kids to wonder. We want kids to ask. Kids who ponder are kids who think, who want to know, who crave data entry. It's our jobs as parents to give it to them. 

Can we answer 437 questions a day? Of course not. But, let's shoot for twenty-five. When we can't answer because we're on the phone or just need a break, ask your child to draw a picture of what they think the answer to the question is. This does three things: it gets them thinking about their own thinking. It gives them time to concentrate on one question for awhile as they are drawing, which means you contend with less questions during that time. And, finally, it gives you a record of the question and their thoughts on it, something you can come back to at the end of the day in bed.

We have to live our lives. We can't answer 3,000 questions a week, but we also don't want to stop our children from thinking, asking and exploring the world. The kids who think are the kids who prosper.

image courtesy of ©iStockphoto.com/abu