How to parent kids on spring break — and in life

I’m thinking about the trip to the police station again.

Our older son is in Mexico this week for spring break with a bunch of his fraternity brothers. He’s 20.

I’m nervous. I’m actually nervous, scared, anxious, excited, happy and proud all at the same time.

Why?

Because parenting is essentially one giant cluster fuck of emotions. It comes with a seemingly ridiculous set of daily challenges and concerns, along with navigating the complexities of social media, sex, drugs and a rapidly changing cultural landscape that I don’t profess to understand.

Here’s what I’m afraid of today as he’s heading off (I say today because I feel like it changes every day I read the news):

  • Fentanyl

  • Rape accusations/lack of consent

  • Anything showing up on the internet – someone having naked girls’ pics on their phone, or their dick pic being on someone else’s phone

  • Getting so hammered you end up in a hospital (or worse)

  • Getting drugged, ripped off, beaten up and/or thrown into a ditch

  • Being dumb enough to get into a car, boat or jetski with anyone under the influence, including yourself

I know. This is the shit that keeps me up at night.

But here’s what I’m excited about (This also changes every day):

  • That he’s making lifetime memories with his friends

  • That he’s having experiences and stories to tell for a lifetime

  • That one girl and that one night…

  • That he’s maintaining a great experience and education at CU

  • That he’s earned the privilege of getting to do these things – good kid, good grades, having a job, holding up his end of the bargain

  • That he’s living life and having fun

  • That  he’ll likely not share anything else with me no matter how many times I ask

  • Life lessons that he’s learning along the way

  • That he got home safely

By the way, this stuff keeps me up at night, too.

I worry when things are good, I worry when things are not so good.

One thing I’ve learned along the way is that things are never as good as you think. They’re never as bad as you think, either.

This is how my mind works. With the exception of fentanyl – and I’m not proud to type this line – I’ve been that guy in all the scenarios above. I got second, third, and fourth chances along the way, and in today’s world, you don’t get that many chances anymore.

I want my boys to know that alcohol doesn’t help confidence, it hinders it. Alcohol has never left me with any good memories, only bad ones and regret.  Morning-after syndrome used to be the norm for me. Wait… where did I leave my credit card last night?

Not my best days.

When I hear guys in midlife say their best days are behind them, I say “not mine.”

Drugs never did it for me, either. I tried coke a couple of times. The second time, I thought I was gonna stop breathing and my heart was pounding out of my chest.

That was enough.

So how do you share this stuff with your kids?

Or don’t you? Or did I just?

Did that trip to the police station years ago get the job done?

—

The risks are so high now with drugs, social media, cancel culture and more. I’m thankful I didn’t have all this in my teens and twenties. I feel for my boys. hey don’t know what it was like back then, and I don’t know what it’s like for them right now. I’m sure my parents felt the same way.

The dialogue between Kate and I and our boys, filled with text messages and calls, reflects our attempt to navigate our own fears and the reality of our sons’ growing independence. One message reminded him to share his travel details, while another stressed the importance of watching out for each other.

 

How I parent.

 

These exchanges underscore the tension between our desire to keep him safe and our understanding that we cannot protect him from everything.

They also show the differences between Kate and myself: our approaches, concerns, the ways we communicate separately and how we work together as a team.

 

How Kate parents.

Do we share our personal experiences with our kids?

If I do, I worry my kids will think they can try it once, too.

If I don’t, I worry that they think I have no idea what I’m talking about… as if I was born 51 years old and sober and have never experienced what they’re going through.

Better one or better two?

One thing I feel strongly about is that It’s not my job to be the cool dad. It’s not my job to make things easier for my sons. I’m not the dad that says “You can drink in our house or do this or that around me.”

My job is to make it harder for them. My job is for them to learn. My job is for them to have to get away with shit unscathed, without anything happening to them – and without me finding out.

My job is to teach them where the line is and go from being galactically stupid and irresponsible to “Hey, I can go have fun with my friends, be a solid young adult and move on with my life productively.”

The No Jackpot Rule

We have this thing in our family that I call the “no jackpot rule.” I’ve been drilling it into our boys’ heads for years.

A “jackpot” is anything we can’t get them out of. DWI, OD, getting caught doing something that’ll remain online forever, cheating, any comments that can get you canceled (whatever that even means anymore), injury or worse.

Our conversations with our son before his trip tried to bridge these approaches, emphasizing the importance of staying safe and making responsible choices. We advised him to stay with his friends, be aware of his surroundings, and practice moderation, especially regarding alcohol.

The goal was to foster an environment where he felt supported, yet free to enjoy his break responsibly and respectfully. And to remind him of our family rule: no jackpots.

Enforcing this rule can be tough love at times.

The Police Station

I already knew our son was smoking pot in high school. I could see it in his eyes after lacrosse practice and it was all so obvious. We talked about it. We established rules. One of those rules was to never do it in the car. “Don’t keep any drugs in your car. You get pulled over, that’s a jackpot.”

But I wasn’t convinced. I knew he was going to great lengths to hide his behavior. So one evening, while he was in the shower after practice, I went through his car and found a mason jar buried in the hatchback, on top of the spare tire.

Later that night, I asked him to come downstairs.

“Hey, take a ride with me. I need your help with something. Let’s take your car. Get in.”

I drove around the neighborhood, pulled up in front of the police department and stopped the car.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

I asked him if there was anything in this car I needed to be aware of. He looked at me like a deer in the headlights.

I asked again. “Is there anything in this car? I think one of your tires is low – why don’t you pop the hatch in front of this police department and pull out the spare tire.”

At that point he came clean and told me about the weed. Which I already knew, and was the point of the whole trip.

I explained that we follow the rules of engagement in our family. We honor the no jackpot rule. I said this was stupid and that I expected more from him.

I don’t know if it was the right thing to do. I don’t know if it was the right way to handle it. I just know that it’s the way that I handled it. And he got the point. I found out later that that story made its way around his high school, and I’m actually quite proud of that.

There are no answers to the test on this one.

What I want my sons to know is that I care. I want them to know that I love them. I want them to know that I am always watching. I want them to know that they can always come to me, so long as they tell the truth, as long as they are honest and open and transparent. I will help them. I will teach them and I will work with them. But this all starts with trust. It all starts with honesty. It all starts with communication.

On one hand, I’m extremely grateful and realize that Kate and I have raised young men much more upstanding than I ever was.

I also realize that part of growing up involves making mistakes. You just hope as a parent that the mistakes they make are not ones  they can’t come back from.

I’m in a continual reassessment of how tightly to hold on and when to let go. This is where I struggle most.

I don’t know where the line is. It moves every day. I move it every day. Some days I’m like “whatever” and seem to be cool, accepting that this is just life evolving and our kids growing up and they’re gonna be fine, so just let it all play out and happen organically.

Other days, I want to know every detail, micro-parent the hell out of them, dictate every moment and control the results (even though I know I can’t and that I shouldn’t).

I spend a lot of hours worrying about hovering as a dad or not being strict enough. I want my boys to live, experience and grow as much on their own as possible. But I also know I have much to teach them and experiences to share.

I also know how much I needed that myself.

The Takeaway

We can’t cover our kids up and protect them from everything. Instead, we must teach, guide, and trust them. It’s about finding that balance between safety and independence, between guidance and trust. It’s a balance that allows our children to grow into responsible, aware and compassionate adults.

Anyone who’s a parent knows this: Parenting leads to personal discovery, too. How you parent forces you to dig up how you were parented, why you are the way you are now and who you want to become next.

What do you think?

 

To find your own style, start with mimicking.

Fashion is one of my 6F’s. I just like it.

It’s not about being on the cover of GQ (although I wouldn’t turn that down!) or trying too hard. The truth is it’s the opposite.

To me, style is confidence. When you’re 51, how you perceive yourself and how you want to be perceived by others matters.

Midlife is not the time to give up and phone it in. It’s the time to focus on pro-aging, not anti-aging.

You should give a shit about what you put on your body. You should have standards, because standards feel good. Have high standards.

For me, I developed my personal style by emulating others and interviewing experts.

I find photos of guys who are a similar size and body type to me, wearing what I think looks good, and then adapt it for myself.

All of this is available to us online for free. Pictures, reviews, articles, top celebs, athletes, CEOs, stylists, brands, podcasts. If it’s really bothering you, hire a stylist or a coach to help.

It’s not all that hard, or that expensive, and you’ll give yourself some mental relief.

Start with my ACE principle: Aggregate, curate, eliminate.

  • Aggregate from all that’s out there.

  • Curate it down to what works for you.

  • Eliminate what doesn’t.

Here’s how I applied it recently. I saw a photo of Daniel Craig and liked the look: simple V-neck sweater, jeans, and a leather jacket.

How I made it my own:

Two other key fashion tips:

  1.  Get your ass in shape. Everything looks better and you’ll feel better wearing it and feel better about spending on it. This includes skincare, supplements and recovery.

  2.   Fit is always most important. Find the brands that fit you best; not that are most popular… And get a great tailor.