When I wrote and sent the blog entry below, I wasn't specifically thinking about our influence with our kids. It was written with a "general" mindset. Essentially, I was just surprised my boys didn't name more consistent, positive leaders in their life. After thinking about it, I realized how important "being attractive" (i.e., positive and consistent) with our kids is in the relationship we're working to build with them. Being positive and consistent is attractive. Negativity, criticism, cynicism, controlling and any interaction they feel they need to protect themselves from, isn't attractive. When you read this, think about the importance of being positive and consistent with our kids... "Our neighbor has generously offered his pool to our kids during the summer for the last several years. On Labor Day, I took our 2 younger boys over for a few hours. We live in the country, and like the pool at Lone Oak, our neighbor’s pool is tucked away from crowds, noise, and almost every other distraction. Just cool water and quiet…the perfect environment for a more meaningful experience. After swimming hard, playing catch with a tennis ball, and participating in a riveting game of “Who can stay underwater the longest?” we climbed out to dry off in the warm sunshine. The boys were tired. The sun had put them into a bit of a trance. I recognized a rare opportunity: a captive, distraction-free, somewhat-focused audience. The perfect time for a question that would normally earn me an eye-roll followed by, “Seriously, Dad, here we go again.” So I tossed it out there with a bit of caution. “I’ve got a question…Of all the men you know well, how many would you consider to be a consistently positive role model?” They thought for a moment. Then a few more moments. And a few more. I could tell they were struggling to establish a baseline. Finally, one of them spoke up. “You would be one, Dad.” Sweet action, I thought, I made the list. They eventually rattled off a few more. Friends, neighbors, relatives, and even an online influencer.

You set the bar high. The fact that you're here, reading this, responding to some and investing in your process puts you miles ahead of many dads who wish they were further along in their own journey. The Process vs. The Result I watched a man squirm in his seat at a youth basketball game the other day. He looked frustrated and embarrassed because his son hadn't scored a point, grabbed a rebound, or stolen a ball. It was halfway through the second quarter. I wondered why this was so painful for him. They were 12 years old. What if our personal and professional journeys had nothing to do with the final result? What if the score, the bank account, the sales numbers, the business P&L, or the outcome were never the point? What if it was only about today? The conversation with your spouse, text you sent your dad, encouragement to a friend, the lesson you learned, the question you asked. What if the missed shots, the failures, the unanswered sales calls, the big wins, the small wins, and everything in between were just part of the stuff that mattered most? And for whatever reason, you were intended to know it. What if what mattered was simply how you showed up? What if the greatest blessing was getting another chance to go after it again today? A chance to say good morning to your son or daughter...to sit on the porch for ten minutes...take a walk..laugh at a goofy joke. Are you living that today? What does a win look like? Have a great Father's Day!

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

Dads - I'm about to publish an article on my blog about how we change as we get older. Specifically, how many of us begin trading wonder for judgment. A few examples I share in the article... Children drive by their friend's yard and think, "That's a lot of space to play catch!" Adults drive by the same house and think, "He really needs to mow." Children see a tree and think, "I wonder how high I can climb." Adults see the same tree and think, "Those branches are getting too close to the roof." Children watch someone walk through the rain and think, "That looks like fun!" Adults watch the same thing and think, "They're going to get sick." There are scientific reasons why our mindset shifts this way as we age. But just because something seems "normal" (thanks, Brian Neu for getting me started) doesn't mean it's healthy, beneficial, or worth accepting without question. I've got a lot more to say on this topic, but before I do, I'd love to hear from you. When was the last time you caught yourself responding to life with judgment? What's an example you've noticed in yourself? Have a great week, Brian