So, if you ask my friends, most would probably tell you that they think I'm a health nut. I exercise six times a week. I try to eat chicken rather than red meat. I rarely drink. And, I avoid sweets and junk food as much as I can tolerate.

The truth is, this is my version of a mid-life crisis: no hair plugs, no sports car, and no mistress. Instead, I try to keep my body as young as possible. But, I really do struggle with sweets. I love me some cookies and ice cream, can't say "no" to key lime pie, and I love candy, especially Peanut M&M's and Reese's Cups. 

So, when parents say that their kids should not have and Halloween candy I get where they are coming from, but I also understand the kids' points of view. If your kids already don't eat any sweets or you have an understanding that works for your family, so be it. But, the majority of kids don't have a "no sweets' life. 

So, what can we do to make sure our kids aren't gorging on Twizzlers, Candy Corn, and Smarties this Halloween (and the two weeks that follow)? 

In my family we have always used the "junk candy" method. You know what the junk candy is (and so does your kid). It's the candy in their Halloween bag that they leave for the end. Unlike adults who sometimes save the best for last, kids save the junk candy for last. It's the candy that they move aside when looking for another Kit Kat, Crunch Bar, or Snickers. And, when none of them are found, they say, "I guess I'll have one of these butterscotch hard candies instead."

And, that's why it's junk candy, because they will eat it even though they don't really want it. We've taught our girls that eating a little of the "good stuff" is fine every now and then, but there's no point to eat the junk. It doesn't help our teeth, our bodies, our brain chemistry, and it adds to the addiction of sugar.

Therefore, on Halloween night, while the piles of candy are still titanic, we have our girls dump out the candy and put them into two piles "Junk" and "Not Junk". The good stuff stays in the house and the junk is brought to a local dentist the following week who will buy the candy for two bucks a pound and send it to our troops overseas (find your own local buy back here). 

Here's the kicker, because my girls had less candy than they would had they kept it all, they ended up relishing what they did have and eating a little here and there (knowing we would not be buying candy for our home the rest of the year. As a result, when "the dumping of the bags" (as we called it) occurred on Halloween Night, there would still be some candy from the year before, and we'd get rid of this as well.

Everyone wins: kids get some candy as well as a few bucks, they save their teeth and bodies and brains, the dentist is happy because he's filling less cavities, and the troops get a sweet care package.


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image courtesy of ©MorgueFile.com/cohdra

I've got a sixteen year old daughter, Riley. She's a good kid: hangs out with a great circle of friends, gets terrific grades, doesn't drink, swear or take drugs (as far as her mother and I know). But, she's still sixteen. And, if you have a teen, you know that means you get a fraction of the attention you got just a few years ago.

Riley is in her room most of the time, and when she's not, she's got her nose buried in her phone. I can always tell when she wants something, because she actually approaches me or my wife. Otherwise, she's quite aloof.

When I ask her a question or try to find out about her day, she responds with as little effort as possible. Just a year and a half ago if I asked her how her day went, she'd respond with, "It was fine." Last year she started counting words and would respond, "Okay." Six months ago, she was down to syllables, "Good." Today, she just nods her head up... as if a nod up even answers the question, but she's figured out how to respond with even less effort.

But, here's where my story gets interesting. I needed help styling my wig for this year's Halloween costume. I'm going as a superhero with very specific hair. I ordered a special wig for this hero, and it came smashed in its package, and the wig looked like a pair of weasels nesting upon my head when I put it on.

Riley is all about make-up, hair and fashion. So, last weekend I asked her if she would help reshape my wig in preparation for Halloween. She said she would, and it was a magical time. I must have been in her room for a good 20 to 30 minutes. She brushed, hair sprayed, gelled, and snipped at my $16.99 faux locks, and we talked. We actually talked. 

Riley struggled because the wig was in pretty bad shape. She was frustrated because she couldn't get it to do what she wanted, but this was her wheelhouse. Although she was unable to do what she wanted, she was "unable" in her area of expertise, her passion: hair styling. 

I was able to find our common ground, ground where she put effort into communicating with me, ground where she didn't mind having me around. 

Teens can be tough, but they still have passions. If we can tap into these passions as parents, we can stay connected to these creatures who are making this transition from childhood to adulthood... with as little effort as possible (them, not us).

I think too many parents are looking to blame someone for difficulties their kids may be having: academically, socially, athletically, whatever. Sometimes, you need to put the blame on your kid, and other times there's really no one to blame.

I have a daughter who is highly emotional. When she was in preschool and early elementary school, she would get upset at the smallest of things. She cried so easily. She blew things way out of proportion. For example, there was one morning she was freaking out because her waffle pieces had been cut too small. Tears for ten minutes. By the time she was ready to eat, the syrup had soaked into her waffles making them soggy. Ten more minutes of tears!

One morning in kindergarten she cried from her room, "I have no clothes to wear!" only to find her standing in front of her full closet staring at dozens of garments of clothing.

She would sit down in front of her classroom before school and refuse to play with the other kids, and become weepy if things didn't go just right. As a result, kids didn't particularly choose to play with her much, and by the time she started to grow out of this, her last couple years in elementary school, the damage had been done. By her peers she was already seen as the emotional girl who was unstable and cried all the time, although she had outgrown it.

So, she has struggled rebuilding her social connections. 

I know how cool a kid she has become (and believe me, I knew why kids avoided her those early years, as well), and how much fun she is to be around now. I certainly wish more of her peers would give her a chance now, but I can't blame them. I can't. 

It would be easy to say that their parents have raised mean little girls that are not accepting, but that's unfair. I could blame the school for not making other kids play with my girl, but that's not what schools are for. I could even blame my daughter for creating this reality for herself, and I did for awhile, until I realized she really didn't have control over it. 

She didn't want to push kids away. She didn't want to cry eight times a day. She didn't want to have difficulty eating breakfast or picking out her clothes. It was what Nature gave her. It was her chemical make up. She has OCD and anxiety issues.

Yes, I want my kid to have a wider and closer circle of friends, but she doesn't and I can't blame others when this issue came from her. Do I wish kids would give her another chance? Sure. 

But, I write this today because sometimes when our kids are having trouble with peers at school or are doing poorly academically or can't perform well in a sport, it may not be the fault of the other kids, their parents, the teacher or the coach. Sometimes it's just who our kids are.

Maybe our job is to focus on them instead of blaming others. Are they knuckleheads, lazy, slackers, mean or are they trying, but this is just who they are? Because, not everyone is a social butterfly, a genius or an athlete. So, instead of blaming others for our children's deficiencies, we need to accept who they are, light a fire under their butts, or support them along the way.

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image courtesy of ©iStockphoto.com/GlobalStock