What is your family’s unique way of celebrating the Fourth of July? For us, it’s a special day in more ways than one. Three years ago tomorrow, we brought Pumpkin home from the hospital — nine weeks to the day after she was born. So for us, it’s not just our nation’s independence we’re celebrating, but Pumpkin’s independence from the NICU. That said, I hope to start teaching her about the larger meaning of the holiday and why we are grateful to be living here in America. If you’re looking for ideas for family activities, here is a link to the Wikipedia entry on Independence Day. Here is the Declaration of Independence at the National Archives. Every year, National Public Radio offers an audio reading of the declaration. Here is a link to last year’s recital.

One of the advantages of having shared custody of your child is that there’s a limit to the number torturous school assignments you have to do for the kid. Obviously, my ex ends up with half of them because of our 50-50 custody deal.

And I don’t mean arts & crafts for art projects, or books to complete assignments, or visits to museums or zoos to complete written research projects. Those are concrete tasks that you can justify as advancing your child’s education and creativity.

But what’s the educational benefit to cooking three pounds of bacon?

I’m talking about the extra-curricular events like class picnics and holiday celebrations. You know, when your child comes home and tells you he volunteered to make six dozen blintzes, or hard boil 96 eggs, or cook french fries for 40 kids and teachers. A co-worker told me this morning that his daughter committed him and his wife to make fruit salad for 30 kids. She neglected to mention this until this morning, the day of the event. So take a swing by Super Stop & Shop and look for a mom frantically buying up all the fruit.

On my end, my 10-year-old volunteered to cook bacon for the class breakfast today. I’ll give him credit for telling me three days ago, so there was no last-minute shopping. Of course, I made it clear that blueberry muffins or orange juice would’ve been preferred. But the kid likes bacon. And that’s a good thing, because he’ll be smelling it around the house for weeks to come.

Don’t get me wrong: My ex has shouldered her share of these tasks since our divorce. It’s just that the time-intensive — and smelly — ones always seem to land on the days our son is with me. And the thing is there’s more to come, because my girlfriend’s 4-year-old will have to cook up his own batch of bacon sooner or later. Ah, parenting.

But such are the pleasures of a blended family. And it does make us a family, with all the annoyances, burdens and hurdles that come with any family. And that makes it seem less torturous, even if there are a few pounds of bacon here and there.

I’m a little confused.

One of the things we have been adamant about teaching our boys is good manners. This is something my mom drilled into my brother and myself since we were young, and something I’ve always taught my own child. My girlfriend is the same with her boy, and we both insist on good table manners and polite behavior.

So why do I feel like we’re in the minority? It can’t be for lack of resources on this stuff. Five minutes online and I was able to track down several tip sheets and suggestions for teaching your children manners. Some of the better ones include this web page as well as this other site on the same topic. So what’s going on?

Let me back up. We had two experiences this weekend that make me wonder if young people aren’t being taught manners:

On Saturday, we had a four-year-old birthday party for my girlfriend’s son. When it was time for pizza one of the little boys decided he wanted another boy’s chair, and pretty much muscled him out of it. I get it: He’s only four. But the boy’s father just watched, made one half-hearted suggestion that he not be so pushy, then let it go. The other boy burst into tears.  Poor parenting.

Then the following day, we went shopping at Target in Mount Kisco. We had to return some stuff, so went to the “customer service” counter. The young woman there puts out her hand for the receipt, turns her head to talk to someone else, then, when the receipt was in her hand, she immediately says she’s calling a manager because she doesn’t put up with customers being disrespectful. Huh? The manager comes, never apologizes and says he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Meanwhile, the young woman glares, the manager sees nothing wrong with it and suggests we go on our way.

Two varying encounters, one basic problem. In the first, a four-year-old needs to be directed toward good behavior, and it’s up to the parent to ensure that happens. Children learn from role models. Neither my son nor my girlfriend’s son would ever be allowed to behave that way. In the second instance, it’s an example of someone being raised without manners — let alone professional courtesy a young person needs to succeed in any industry, primarily the retail service industry.

To me, this is something kids should learn before they apply for their first job, whatever that may be. I know plenty of single and divorced parents who instill this in their children — it’s not heavy lifting. And, in our own blended family, it’s the rule.

But am I making too much of this? Or am I right to wish that our boys encountered good manners outside the home as well?

The more I search, the more I find.

As in more single-parenting websites. This is a particularly good one from David Mott, a West Coast dad who runs the Dad’s House blog. David is a divorced dad with half-time custody, and addresses everything from solo parenting to the single-parent dating scene and all the issues in between.

He tells me that his goal is to tell the world “that single fathers are perfectly capable of caring for children and running a household solo.” He concedes that his half-custody situation puts him in a different role than solo moms or single parents with full-time custody. But there is plenty of common ground in terms of dating, relationships and parenting concerns. He hits on all those and posts regularly.

“I’m sharing stories and opinions on online dating,” he said. “Also how to deal with things like the general lack of acceptance of a single dad by married couples, and things to do with your alone time. Interestingly enough, my blog has already opened some eyes to married readers who are now re-evaluating the father’s role in a household that has both parents. I’m all for men being more present with their children.”

I’m trying to be selective in the sites I add to my blogroll, and didn’t hesitate adding Dad’s House. The stories are always honest, often funny and consistently useful. And if you noticed, David has already begun providing his input on my posts here, which is valuable to the discussions we engage in.

As I like to say, check it out.

Here’s the scenario: A group of kids in a pre-K class were given a homework assignment that required them to make a snowman. It was part of an arts & crafts project. Sounds good, right? Fun for the kids; some creative input from the parents.

This was at the pre-K where my girlfriend’s son goes, and she had fun helping him put together a snowman made from paper plates, glue, glitter, markers and some fluffy stuff. He was way proud, and should’ve been.

Now, we all know what happens in these situations. Some parents do the project for their kids so the kid will have the best one in the class. As if that’s the point. Anyway, it certainly was the case here. But that’s not the issue.

When they presented these things in the class, they actually gave awards for the best ones. That is to say, only two or three of the kids got rewarded, and most of the kids didn’t win an award, and got a certificate for doing it. Our little guy was heartbroken.

That strikes me as wrong. I’m all for teaching kids to be competitive and all. But at 3 and 4, I’d opt to give all the kids some kind of award, just to reward their efforts on the arts & crafts project.

What do you think?

Interesting blog item on the Fathers and Families website. It deals with “moveaways,” or the process whereby children of divorced or separated parents are moved to a new home. It’s clearly a legitimate issue, but I think there are other elements at work in many of those situations, and certainly in the example cited in the blog.

When my ex and I split, she argued for us to keep the house so my son would have one home he was already comfortable with. My view was that if he had two loving homes, it would not matter as much, particularly given his young age. But I gave in and the home remains one of the two he shares time in. Has it been a factor in his adjustment? Hard to say. But I have to concede it didn’t hurt.

In general, I think relocating children is probably not the best scenario if it can be avoided. Sometimes, particularly in divided families, it is routinely unavoidable. According to the ‘moveaways’ blog that I referred to above, moving children in those situations is harmful, and several studies are cited. It is undoubtedly a debatable point, as the blogger himself expresses. And then he cites a case study involving a Massachusetts couple.

In truth, I’m not sure it’s the best example, since there seems to be some intense emotional tension between the parents in the relationship, something which directly impacts the kids. To me, that level of animosity between parents is a more damaging factor in most divorce situations than the simple act of moving a child to a new home after a separation or divorce.

But that’s just the way I see it.

But how about the kids? As parents, we spend a great deal of time establishing and maintaining a set of rules for our children. New Year’s presents a golden opportunity to incorporate this into the annual ritual of resolutions, giving the kids a level of responsibility while allowing them to participate in what is widely perceived as an adult exercise.

With that in mind, I came across a good list of suggested resolutions put together by the American Academy of Pediatrics, which provides a good overall website to keep bookmarked. The AAP list of resolutions is simple and concise, so there’s no heavy lifting. Personally, I plan to use them as a guide of sorts when I sit down with my son to work out a list for him.

That aside, Happy New Year to all.

I know some of you, and maybe even the majority, will think I’m nuts. But here goes anyway: I feel a little bit guilty about teaching Pumpkin about Santa Claus. The thing is, Santa is a myth. But we don’t really represent him as a myth, do we? No, we do the whole story as if he is a real person. I found myself doing it this year. The night before Christmas, we picked out home-baked cookies and put them on a plate with a carrot (for Rudolph), poured a big glass of milk and explained all about the chimney, the flying reindeer, etc. Now, Pumpkin is just 2 and doesn’t have the greatest comprehension yet, but she understood this all pretty well. Well enough, in fact, that when it came time to pick out cookies for Santa, she choose to give him the ones that weren’t her favorites. She believed she was picking them out for a real person that wasn’t her — and wasn’t mama or dada. In the morning, she had a look of pretty gullible amazement on her face when we pointed out the empty milk glass, the missing and munched on cookies and the partially chomped carrot. (On the plus side, she is mixing up Santa with Elmo, who is one of the most important individuals in her life. When I asked her who her presents were from, she said, “Elmo.�)

Here is why I am uncomfortable: I am lying to her when I tell her about Santa. And my policy is honesty all the time. I don’t say we are out of cookies when I don’t want her to have any more — and I don’t let other caregivers do it, either. I just say, “No more.� I don’t make up stories about why we are or are not doing something, I show her respect and tell her the truth — in a way that’s appropriate for a toddler, of course. I just don’t believe in lying. I want to demonstrate in my words and actions that I respect her as an intelligent human being. I hope that will lead to a mutual feeling of trust that will last our whole lives together. I can’t help but wonder if the Santa myth presented as fact is a betrayal of that trust. After all, I am one of her most important sources of information about how the world works. Isn’t it wrong to abuse that power by pretending that Santa is real?

The other day, this issue of honesty came up in relation to a comment my mom made. Pumpkin had received a magnetic doodle pad for Christmas and was playing with it. My mom said something like, “How does this work? It’s magic.� I immediately protested from the next room where I was on the computer. I told my mom that I don’t want Pumpkin to think that everyday objects in her life are controlled by magic. I said to my mom, “We wouldn’t tell her the refrigerator keeps the food cold by magic, why is this any different?�

And in the same way, I feel ambivalent about perpetuating the Santa myth. What do the rest of you moms and dads think? If you have young children, do you feel at all guilty when you talk about Santa? Has anyone decided not to do the Santa deal? And if you have older kids: How did they react when they learned he isn’t real?

The first time is really, really cute. I rush to offer Pumpkin a choice of whatever she wants. The 100th time is still pretty cute. The 1,000th time is cute but mama’s patience is starting to falter. I’m talking, of course, about her burst of independence that makes the phrase “me pick it” very popular around our house. I hear it at the breakfast table when Pumpkin demands the option to pick out a bib for herself — and for her Elmo doll. I hear it at the changing table. I hear it when it’s time to get dressed. I hear it when it’s time to watch a Baby Einstein video. I hear it when I open a box of frozen waffles. You’re starting to get the idea.

Now, I’m not really complaining. Of course, I want my 2-year-old to want to do things for herself. And I am encouraging her first steps toward eventually making all of her own decisions (on everything from piercings to which college to attend). But wow. It really does make little jobs exhausting. The diaper routine is the most exasperating. Do we really, really need to select our own diaper every time? And does Elmo really need his own diaper, too? Apparently so. As some of you might remember, I wrote before on the blog about Pumpkin’s obsession with Elmo diapers. Well, the good folks at Pampers are still driving me crazy. We are using Cruisers these days, and most boxes come with three varieties: Elmo alone; Elmo with a friend such as Zoe or Ernie; Cookie Monster. The preferred diaper — by far — is Elmo alone. Elmo with a buddy is acceptable most of the time. But Cookie Monster is almost always rejected. (Truth be told: Pumpkin is a little scared of Cookie Monster. When the Number of the Day comes up on Sesame Street, she always jumps from my lap into my arms.) As you can imagine, by the end of the box, there are only Cookie Monster diapers left. It’s a challenge.

So, this is our phase right now. And I’m enjoying it. It’s accompanied by a burst in verbal ability. Just now, for instance, I asked Pumpkin if she wanted her ice cream on a dish and she said, “A bowl, mama.” It also comes with a exponential increase in tantrums. And “time outs” don’t seem to have much effect. To be honest, I think she enjoys being naughty. Our days seem to pass so quickly and she’s growing up so incredibly fast. I know it’s a cliché that all parents echo, but I living it is entirely different. I see in this recalcitrant toddler the feisty little tiny bundle she was as a baby.

What we’re hoping for is that the “terrible twos” are truly confined to this time frame. I am reveling in the challenges of this year expecting that next Christmas season, I’ll have a cooperative 3-year-old. Please don’t tell me I’m wrong!

I spent years making sure my foot wasn’t hanging off the edge of the bed at night. I knew if I slipped and dangled my foot, the monster under the bed would take a bite out of it. And occasionally there was a shadow in the corner that just didn’t look right.

Most of us had similar fears as kids. I remember seeing the “horse head scene” from The Godfather as a kid. Shame on my parents for letting me anywhere near that movie at a young age, by the way. Anyway, I became convinced someone was going to cut off my parakeets’ heads and stick them under my blanket. The result was that I wrapped myself up like a mummy every night for months, making sure not to leave any gaps where the tiny heads could be slipped in while I was snoozing.

It’s silly and funny now, of course. But all kids develop some fears. My son went through a period where he was afraid of the dark, and my girlfriend’s 3-year-old is still immersed in it. My son, at 10, is going through a patch of it again now, only because he read a computer game review online where some teenager wrote a joke entry that instead spooks younger kids by convincing them that the game triggers some killer monster that sneaks up on you when you’re alone. Sick joke.

As a single parent, you tend to have additional issues that breed these fears, since there is separation anxiety and other issues that are magnified in divorced and separated homes.

I found some useful online literature on this at the Child Care Aware website, which you regular readers probably know I’ve used as a reference in the past. They put together a very concise and helpful two-part article online on this very topic. I think it helps parents to understand the issues at play when kids express or show fear.

The first installment outlines some common fears children display after age two, when the behavior tends to begin materializing in children. The important thing to realize as you read through this is that common fears in children are just that: Common.

The second part addresses ways to cope and alleviate these fears.

To me, it’s part of growing up. But all of us have the instinct to make our children feel better, and that includes assuring them all is okay when they display fear. I remember when we watched the animated movie Monsters Inc. that I found it a positive experience for my son because it poked fun at the childhood fear of the monster in the closet. Plus, the monsters were lovable and, ultimately, well-meaning. Now I wonder if the monsters under the bed are just as cuddly.

My son’s got it easy at school. At least that’s the way I see it, given that his classes don’t start until 9 a.m., and he’s out at 3 p.m. When I was a kid, I can’t recall starting school any later than 8:20 a.m., and that was seen as lenient. So what’s up?

I should note that my 10-year-old scores at the top of the class in all of the state tests he’s been required to take. And he devotes tons of his spare time to reading and games that incorporate mathematical and social studies skills. Fine. He’s studious.

But I find myself wanting more school time for him, something I think that there’s no real substitute for. It helps develop good study habits, improved listening skills, increased group-participation skills, and better social skills. True, he’s just in fifth grade now and his school day will get a tad longer as he gets into the later grades. That’s all well and good.

Still, something seems off. Take into account this Boston Globe article, in which a handful of Boston public schools extended the school day and assigned more reading and studying to their students. The result was a significant increase in MCAS scores.

Doesn’t that all seem to make sense? Or is there a case to be made for less time in class? I’d love to hear it.

As a single parent, I think I always tried harder to make my son happy at Christmas.

Deep down, I wanted to compensate for the fact that his mom and I weren’t together, and whatever guilty feelings that carries as a parent. So he got extra presents and things like that. I always wanted to make his Christmas as “normal” as possible.

And we’ve always had a shared Christmas. By that I mean that his mom comes over first thing on Christmas morning. Our custody deal stipulates that my son is with me every Christmas. His mom is Jewish and was willing to allow that Christmas would always be celebrated in my home. But she has made it a point to celebrate with us, and is there first thing.

Anyway, Christmas has always been a time of plenty for my son, as it should for any kid. And I don’t necessarily want that to change entirely. But I do want him to appreciate what he has a bit more. That’s why we’re doing a different kind of Santa letter this year.

This year, he’s going to be involved in filling a Santa letter from a needy kid at the local post office, his first experience doing it. Now, we do want to make sure it’s from a child in need, not a kid who simply wants extra toys. If you’re doing this for the first time yourself, check with your post office to ensure they’re weeding out the right ones.

The way I see it, there are kids right down the street who don’t have a proper coat or shoes, let alone a toy or two. If my son has two coats, he should give one up to someone in need. Because my son isn’t the only kid who should have a “normal” a Christmas as possible.

My girlfriend’s 3-year-old burst into tears this morning as I was about to take him to pre-K. When I asked him why he was crying, he said because he wanted Santa Claus to bring him presents. He knows Santa will show up while we’re all sleeping and deliver a bundle of toys for him to pay with. It’s just that, at his age, the notion that Christmas is still several weeks away is hazy, and he thought it would happen this morning and the next. I assured him Santa would come. But it reminded me of how beautiful that is for a child, and it struck me how he and my own son, who turns 10 on Saturday, are at such varying ends of the Santa myth.

I think it’s pretty obvious the cat is out of the hat for my son by now. He seems to be at the point where he knows the scoop on Santa, but figures he’d better not ‘fess up or there’ll be no presents. It’s sad to me, because nothing can ever replace the look on a child’s face on Christmas morning when the presents are “magically” there under the tree.

So I need to have the Santa Claus conversation with my son this weekend. First of all, I want to make sure he doesn’t ruin it for the younger boy. But I also want to bring my son up to speed on the whole Santa myth and its origins. Santa Claus is based on Saint Nicholas of Myra, a benevolent 4th Century man of the cloth who shared his inheritance with the needy through anonymous gifts. Legend has it that after he died locals would put out food for the saint and straw for his donkey, which St. Nick would turn into toys and treats. That’s kinda cool in its own right, and a pretty good tradition.

Corny as it sounds, I like to think that there is still some magic involved, and there’s an inherent beauty in Christmas that, to me, overshadows the ridiculous marketing blitz that has become part of the holiday season. I remain fond of the legendary 1897 column by New York Sun writer Francis Pharcellus Church, famously titled, Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and expect that the discussion with my son will start with a reading of it. We will talk about the “Dear Santa” letter we’ll be picking up from the post office, and discuss some charity work to aid the less fortunate.

So, the Santa myth will continue for my son, even if the secret is out. Then we can all sit back and marvel at the look of wonderment on the 3-year-old’s face, and the magic he believes in — for now. Let’s hope it lasts.

Thank God for CVS pharmacy and its themed displays, or I might never know what holiday was up next. And since the Christmas decorations are already up, I gather we’re skipping Thanksgiving this year. In fact, there were a few Christmas trees on display at a few local department stores before Halloween even rolled around this year.

Well, not to skip over Thanksgiving, but I’ve had my first discussion with my ex over splitting the Christmas presents for my son, so it must be time to start thinking ahead. This is complicated by the fact that his birthday is at the end of this month. He does love books, so there’ll be a dose of those. And he’s rediscovered Hot Wheels cars recently, so there’ll be some of that.

But I’m hearing from some fellow parents that it might be a good time to consider a few alternatives, particularly since a few that I’ve spoken to are seriously concerned about buying toys this year given the seemingly never-ending list of recalls. Obviously, you can select safe toys if you pay attention to recall lists, which many toy stores have available.

Still, I’ve heard some alternative suggestions. Homemade toys are a good idea, and, for older kids, donating to charity in their name is a worthy gift. Or consider tickets to an upcoming holiday event, such as Willy Wonka at the Tarrytown Music Hall. Or a candlelight tour at historic Philipsburgh Manor in Sleepy Hollow. The New York Botanical Gardens in the Bronx has several events, including the Gingerbread Adventures and the Holiday Train Show.

If all works out, I’m hoping to include tickets for one of the above in the kids’ stockings this year, although the ability to plan ahead has never been one of my strongest assets. I’d also like to check out the Westchester Toy & Train Christmas Show at the Westchester County Center, which has a lengthy list of upcoming events. Of course, that’s on Dec. 9, well before the holidays. So I’m thinking it might be a good place to get gift ideas. Besides, I think the cat’s out of the bag on the Santa thing by now. Then again, that’s a blog for another day.

Don’t get me wrong, I love that my son got so absorbed in J.K. Rowling’s book series about the boy wizard. It’s just that I want my son to read some of the classics as well.

Now, I love that he’s an avid reader, with a particular attraction to non-fiction and “fact books” like encyclopedias and atlases. He’s also read a number of childrens’ series, including Dan Gutman’s series of baseball biographies. When he was younger, he also read an abridged version of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain and enjoyed it.

But I think there’s great value for a child to read classic literature, and I’ve been nudging him and his mom for months to get him to try out some of those. Last week, he started to read Stephen Crane’s Red Badge of Courage, which I thought would tap into his interests in American history. Here’s the short follow-up list I put together for him:

• Call of the Wild by Jack London

• Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

• The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

• Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne

I figure that’s a short enough list, and I’m waiting to assess how he does with Crane. I’d also like to hear some other suggestions out there, particularly from parents who have older children. Let me know.