How do you respond to your kids' "failure?" Your 9 year old steps into the batter's box for the first time in "kid pitch" baseball. You're standing with anticipation behind the backstop. Phone out. Camera ready. Not to capture the memory, but rather, to have evidence in your meeting with him later about how he needs to change his stance. After all...he's a pro athlete in the making, right!?!?! Your energy level and heart rate increases. He takes his stance, raises his bat, and looks directly at the pitcher. You can tell his nervous...terrified. Rightly so, he's about to have a hard object thrown directly at a small target placed within inches of his bare knuckles. That same object is about to be thrown by another boy who's equally as nervous and extraordinarily inaccurate. You begin yelling... "Get your elbow up!" "Wait for it!" "Move toward the plate!" "You gotta swing!" And the ever so obvious, "Keep your eye on the ball!" What the hell are we thinking? Keep your eye on the ball? (I feel like an idiot thinking about it.) What do we think they're trying to keep their eye on? In those circumstances, when your kids have a 95% chance of failure, how do you respond? We criticism, critique, encouragement, love, understanding? Why are you responding? To help them improve? So they want to try again another time? So you don't feel like a failure as a parent when they fail? Or so you don't feel quite so bad (because they feel bad) when they drag their bat back to the dugout, head down, after they strike out in 3 pitches? Something to think about as we all try and be more courageous dads. Enjoy your week, Brian

For all those dads that have a kiddo graduating from college, high school , middle school, grade school or pre-school this week I offer you my congratulations! From the first milestone in pre-school to advanced accomplishments at every level thereafter, our kids couldn’t do it without the constant love and support from their parents. I have our wedding video that I go back and watch periodically because my Dad gave us sound advice (as newlyweds). He said “always remember two things: always give thanks to God , remaining strong in your faith and never forget your parents to whom you owe so much”. He was spot on! I think what he meant by that was that parents will literally sacrifice all they have for the sake of their children and that was his way of gentling reminding us (even in our mid-20’s) to never forget those sacrifices and always hold that sacrifice in your heart so that we can carry that same type of love and sacrifice on to our children. I know all of your children have benefited from this same type of love and sacrifice and I also know that they will never take that for granted! And because of that, they are prepared to take on their next phase of life. Keep up the courageous work Dads!

Ronnie wrote a piece about the importance of traditions in his family. I also think they're important, but I'm not great at carrying them forward. I think they are vital. So why don't I take more time and intention in making them happen? It's frustrating to even think about how I've put them as a lesser priority.... Thoughts?

Yesterday I was coaching a 14U baseball game. My son, Luke, is our leadoff hitter. He crushed one to right field. It took a bad hop and got by the defender. He should’ve been on second… but he stopped at first. His Head was down, and he wasn't listening to the first base coach. He just assumed the play was over. From my coach's position on third base, I yelled: “Luke, you’ve got to listen and watch! Don’t put your head down!” I immediately regretted it. I caught myself and said to the other coaches in the opposing team's dugout, “Why is it always easier to yell at our own kids?” That question has been sitting with me ever since. There’s a part of me that thinks: “He’s mine… I can push him harder.” But if I strip that down…that's not leadership. It’s easier to correct my own kid than it is to hold the standard evenly—especially when other parents are watching. It's not who I want to be. So starting today, I’m paying more attention to what my kids actually experience when I speak and act—on the field, in the car, and at home. Yes, it's about my intention, but more so, it's about what they feel. Anyone else ever catch themselves in the same space?

Hey Dads - A shortened version of a blog entry I posted earlier this week. I believe we have a tendency to overthink parenthood. The world aggressively feeds us a ton of "rights and wrongs," "do and don'ts," and "should and should-nots." It's not that complicated. But rather...some stronger intention in certain areas. I asked my 12 and 14 year old a question after a full day of hiking and baseball. I asked them just after they got in bed (BTW, a great time to hit kids with a tougher question - they don't want to get out of bed or run away. Its dark, so they won't roll their eyes and walk outside to shoot baskets. Spoken from experience.). "Why do you tell me everything?" Here are their 3 answers: 1. "You're the best listener we know." (We trust you.) 2. "You never get mad." (You're safe.) 3. "We always know how you'll respond." (Reliable) I do get mad, hurt, irritated, scared, disappointed and frustrated. I'm human. But I NEVER get mad when I know they've just shared something in a state of vulnerability (And if they are sharing...they are normally vulnerable). Encouraging you to think about how you are showing up with your own kids. - Do they trust you with everything they want to say? If not, why not? - What's the safety level on your sounding board? Regardless of what they share, do you absorb with interest, patience & courage as opposed to judgement and instruction? - Every day, morning and night, are you the same person? Do they know what to expect? I've told myself 1000's of times, "At the end of my life, I'll have considered myself a reasonable parent if my kids feel safe to tell me anything." What do you think? Remain encouraged this week, Brian PS. If you think another dad would benefit from thinking about those 3 answers, don't hesitate to forward the thoughts.