Dad's House » single dads

Feminine Energy from Moms In a Bar

dadshouse — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 11:30:51 +0000

I recently shared about a bar experience where some guy tried to join a table of women by using one of the best funny pickup lines I’d ever heard.

But the better part of that night was being at that table. The women I drank with that night truly rocked. Feminine energy is a very good thing.

I’m pretty sure the local moms would never drink martinis with me in a bar on a Friday night.

So how come some moms I’d just met were fine drinking with me? And why did it mean so much?

Head over to the Silicon Valley Moms Blog for my take on:

Feminine Energy from Moms In a Bar

(If that pre-programmed link doesn’t work, go straight to Dad’s House posts at SV Moms)

Leave a comment, then come on back and have an espresso coffee martini. Better than last time’s prune juice martini, for sure!

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Single Dad Shopping Perks at the Mall

dadshouse — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 11:33:29 +0000

I hate shopping. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine getting groceries or stocking up on booze. But going to the mall simply isn’t in my DNA. Shopping therapy is an oxymoron to me.

When it came to holiday shopping, my kids bailed me out by going with me. Still, at some point I needed to pick stuff out for them.

My teen daughter needed a new pair of expensive jeans, so I went to an upscale jeans store with a size and style dictated by her mom. The thing was, I also wanted to pick out something for my daughter just from me. I found the cutest fur-lined embroidered hoodie sweatshirt. Best of all, the salesclerk found a size she said would be just right for my daughter, and assured me if it didn’t fit (or my daughter didn’t like it), we could return it – no problem.

That’s when the problems started.

My daughter loved the sweatshirt, but it was a size too small. The jeans didn’t fit, either. Ugh. I went back to the dreaded mall, this time with my daughter in tow.

The salesclerk who helped me wasn’t there, but the manager was happy to assist. She was a cute and smiling 30-year-old, making her about half-way between my daughter’s and my age. Meaning she sort of could relate to both of us. (No, that’s not me enjoying an older man younger woman fantasy. She really did connect with both of us. Hey, it’s her job!)

“Oh, we sold out of your daughter’s size in that sweatshirt three weeks ago,” the manager said. (i.e. two weeks before they sold one to me.)
“So the clerk pushed the wrong size on me?” I asked.
“We can exchange it for store credit.”

I was pissed. I may be a single dad who hates shopping, but I’m not a nit-wit. I sort of know what size clothing my daughter fits into, and the clerk had given us something way too small. (I didn’t check the size when she sold it, because she swore it would fit. My daughter was about the same size as the clerk.)

I asked the manager to call other stores and find the sweatshirt. No problem, she was happy to help. While my daughter tried on jeans, the manager called bay area franchises – San Jose, Monterey, Oakland, San Francisco. No one had a sweatshirt in the right size.

As she called, we chatted a bit. She was impressed I’d tried to pick out clothes for my daughter. But what choice did I have? I’m a single dad. I didn’t want to buy a gift card, and I wasn’t going t to only pick out stuff my ex suggested. I wanted a gift from me.

Turns out the manager had been raised by a single dad, and he couldn’t pick out a thing. She loved me, immediately.

“I’m going to find this sweatshirt for you,” she said. “Even if I have to call New York!”
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I said.
“I’m also going to give you the sale price. It’s half off!”

She told me a humorous story about her dad buying a swimsuit so she could join the swim team. Forget Speedos – he picked out some 1920’s piece that covered her shoulders and buttoned at the bottom.

“That’s really funny,” I said. “I know enough to let my daughter pick out her own swimsuit. But I give your dad props for trying.”
The clerk smiled. “I’m giving you the sales price on the jeans, too,” she said. “That’s another half off!”

One more phone call to who-knows-where, and she found the sweatshirt in the right size. “I’ll have it sent straight to your home,” she said. “And I’m waving the shipping cost!”

By the time my daughter came out of the change room with a pair of jeans that fit, I was in a great mood. We were getting a sweatshirt and jeans that fit, for half the price. But of course, I’d already spent the money – I told my daughter to pick out whatever she liked.

“I don’t need anything else,” my daughter said.
The manager and I looked at each other with a face that said, is my teen daughter crazy, or what?!
“Can you help her find something?” I asked the manager. “Spend everything we saved. I’ll go get a coffee.”

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And so my daughter was treated to a little shopping spree. She didn’t quite spend all the money we saved. But the manager waved the store credit and gave me the cash back.

Walking to the car, my daughter asked how I had scored so well with the manager. After all, I was pissed and annoyed when I entered the store.

“I just turned on my single dad charm,” I said.
My daughter looked at me skeptically, and I fessed up.
“Turns out she was raised by a single dad,” I said. “The manager liked that I was trying.”

My daughter gave me a squeeze. And I have to admit, hitting the mall for shopping that day wasn’t so bad, after all. (Do I lose manliness points by admitting as much?)

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The Boys are Back – Movie Review by a Single Dad

dadshouse — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 10:05:53 +0000

I recently saw The Boys are Back, a movie starring Clive Owen (who gave an outstanding performance), about a single dad who gets in way over his head trying to raise two boys after his wife suddenly passes away.

The film is at times sweet and sentimental, and other times wild and overreaching. It gives a unique view of how one man who knows nothing about parenting copes with being forced into a full-time parenting role.

Joe Warr (played by Clive Owen), the single dad character in this story, hits all the stereotypes for a single dad trying to run a household solo:

His house isn’t just a mess, it’s a disaster, with week-old pizza boxes laying out on the counter, dirty dishes, a chicken defrosting in the bath tub. (The secret to single parent success? Let things slide!)
His parenting style is “free-range” – he basically says YES to any request his son makes. (Did David Lee Roth grow up in a home like this?)
He drinks way too much (we’re talking brown liquor here)
Confronted by normal parenting problems, Joe Warr hasn’t a clue what to do

To which I thought – WTF?! Did the movie industry really need to create yet another cliché depiction of a single dad as bumbling oaf? Some single dads actually know how to cook, communicate with kids, clean house, and be an active part in their childrens’ lives. Hell, a lot of married dads do, too.

As a divorced single dad myself, who has been raising kids half-time and running a household solo for ten years, I had a hard time relating to Joe’s utter lack of competence.

But then I remembered, this movie was based on a true story, having sprung from Simon Carr’s memoir of the same name. I know there are men in the world who are clueless when it comes to cleaning house and caring for kids, and Joe Warr happened to be one of them.

More than that, Joe Warr wasn’t just a single dad. His history would shell shock anyone:

Deadbeat dad – he left his first wife and child and moved halfway around the globe for some other woman he knocked up
Widower – he’s forced to deal with the sudden death of his second wife
Full-time single parent – he goes from workaholic sports writer, somewhat absentee father, and casual observer around the house, to full-time dad

With all that in his life, it’s no wonder he sort of let things go. He did the best he could.

The best part of the movie for me is when Joe’s first son, who Joe left behind when he chased after his second wife, comes to live with Joe and Joe’s second son. Joe is forced to deal with why he became a deadbeat dad. He’s forced to see how his choices affected his son, who is dealing with his mom’s boyfriend, and wrestling with the question of why Joe left him. There was much here I could relate to. (I’m not a deadbeat dad, but my ex is dating, and my son and I both have both been forced to deal with aspects of that.)

Overall, I enjoyed the movie, with the reservation that it promotes single dad clichés. For that reason, I can’t call this movie “vital” like another reviewer did. But I understand not all single dads can be like the characters in Pursuit of Happyness and Kramer vs. Kramer. Seeing all sides of a situation adds depth. In the end, it balances out.

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Lady of the House

dadshouse — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 10:32:22 +0000

Sunday morning, the doorbell rang. I hadn’t had my coffee yet, but at least this single dad was up. I looked out the window, and there’s some lady standing there. Was it a neighbor whose turtle crawled under the fence? (Hey, stuff like that happens in my neighborhood).

I opened the door, and she spoke seven words that ended the conversation for me immediately:

Is the lady of the house in?

I LOVE when people ask me that question. It tells me they don’t know me, or know anything about me.

I’m divorced. There is no lady of the house. I’m a single dad who does it all myself.

Occasions like this remind me of my college jazz band. Our conductor was a professor at the school, but we all called him “Chief”. Anytime a visitor came into our band room and asked for him by Professor Williams or Mr. Williams, we’d start snickering. The visitor usually thought they’d blundered into the wrong class.

Nope, you simply showed your colors – you’re not a friend, and you don’t know anything about us.

When it’s someone trying to sell me stuff, I just laugh it off. I’ll even happily tell them – there is no lady of the house – then I’ll close the door or hang up the phone. I don’t have time for their shit, and they don’t get a second chance.

It’s even better when it’s a mom from the local school. I usually roll my eyes and shake my head. Hey lady, some men actually are active and involved in their kids school life.

Even if I wasn’t a divorced dad, I find it presumptuous that they don’t want to talk to me, but would rather chat with the lady of the house.

So until there is a lady in this single dad’s house, I’ll enjoy this excuse to shake off unwanted visitors and callers.

Because in this house, the man wears the skirt in the family!

(Um, that sort of came out wrong, didn’t it? Haha. Oh well. Gotta love figures of speech!)

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Fathers Day Weekend

dadshouse — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 10:30:23 +0000

It’s Father’s Day weekend, and on Sunday I fully intend to sit my ass in a hammock and not lift a finger all day…

Well, unless that finger lifting results in a beer being consumed…

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads!!!

Enjoy these Father’s Day cocktails:

Hot Dad – Sexy or Old?

dadshouse — Tue, 12 May 2009 08:10:06 +0000

One funny thing about blogging is seeing the various comments that end up in my spam queue. As a single dad on the dating scene, it’s not too surprising the different types of products, services, and websites that get marketed to me.

But lately, there’s been a shift in tone.

Do spammers see a self-proclaimed Hot Dad like me as Sexy? Or just plain old?

Perhaps a bit of both.

Head on over to the Hot Dads Blog and see what spammers have been doing to my male ego, with the post: Hot Dad – Sexy or Old? Be sure to leave a comment, even if it’s just a snarky one-liner. Nothing like giving the other Hot Dads comment envy.

Whether you use a walker to get there or carry condoms in your glove box is entirely up to you!

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Single Dad Fireworks on Mother’s Day

dadshouse — Mon, 11 May 2009 08:00:55 +0000

As a divorced dad with half-time custody, I was on my own for Mother’s Day weekend. That’s as it should be, since my kids were celebrating the holiday with their mom. (I made sure they had gifts for her, and I called to wish her well on the day.)

The rest of my weekend? You’d think my calendar would have been filled! Especially with the annual KFOG Kaboom fireworks show on Saturday night. My buddies and I have sailed for Kaboom in the past, and watched fireworks over the water, from the water, next to the San Francisco Bay Bridge. It’s an amazing sight.

But Mother’s Day weekend got in the way of our sailing fun.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not blaming mom’s for the fact that we didn’t sail. Moms deserve their day and weekend in the sun.

It’s just that I’ve reached an age where my friends are married, and my dating prospects are divorced, and pretty much everyone has kids. For most of these people, Mother’s Day consumed the whole weekend.

Here’s what happened: my buddy and I tried to rally a crew and passengers to sail on Saturday. We hoped to sail all afternoon, grab gin and tonics or Bloody Mary’s at Sam’s in Tiburon, then keep sailing until dark when the fireworks started.

But, but, but…

Two potential crewmates were out of town with their wives and kids, celebrating Mother’s Day weekend
Another potential crewmate is a single mom, and she had her kids all weekend, and they didn’t feel like going
Most of the passengers I had in mind were single moms, either with kids too young to come aboard, or older kids who were treating mom to a special weekend

As for childless single women who I might have invited on the boat? No longer in my dating pool. (Most want to have babies and start families, and I’m done with that.)

And so there were no fireworks for this divorced dad over Mother’s Day weekend.

I did get some good reading time in.

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