When men accompany their partners to prenatal visits and attend at birthing, the women report a much more positive experience, according to our commissioned study, Men Matter. When men share in the housework and rearrange certain duties or workloads to accommodate their pregnant or breastfeeding partners, the couple's relationship strengthens and the household becomes a happier place.
Being a black father, I notice people being shocked that I am even involved with my children -- that's about living in a wider racist culture. Black masculinity has always been under attack. This Father's Day I want to encourage every black dad out there to remember you don't have to conform, you can do it differently, if you dare.
He packs light but thoughtfully. Give him the gift of style and function with this sleek and highly functional American Tourister black hard case carry-on. It has all kinds of great features that will get dad excited -- especially the four swivel wheels which will make it easy to scoot through all the international airports he logs hours in.
I didn't know what to expect when I became a Dad. I didn't lack good fatherly figures -- I just had no clue of what the world expected of me. We hear plenty of stories blaming fathers in absentia for children's bad behaviour, society diagnosing a lack of the firm disciplinarian they so sorely needed to keep them in line -- but people rarely talk about what the value of a good father is.
As a woman and a mother, who has been both a SAHM and working mum, here's a few suggestions as to how you can really repay your beautiful wife. I apologize in advance if you are already doing all of this. You sound like a great guy, so it's quite likely that you are. If you're not, here's what you could do.
Six years ago, my husband Matthew was diagnosed with glioblastoma multiform, the most common and deadliest of brain cancers. As Matthew's primary caregiver, I've come to recognize that coping in the face of a terminal illness is a learned skill, and sometimes it takes a lot of trial and error to figure out what works.
Seven months later and I'm still stunned by the palpable pain I feel in the pit of my chest when I think of him. I marvel at how grief just patiently sits there quietly, waiting for me to suddenly catch a glimpse of someone who looks like him, or for a whiff of someone's Aqua Velva aftershave, that cheap blue stuff he splashed on his face when I was a kid, and suddenly pain, like a searing knife, cuts through me. Seven months of firsts. The first Christmas without him, first New Years' celebrations, first Easter, and now... the first Father's Day.
Last Thursday, my almost-eight-year-old son's innocence was forever tainted when he discovered, through a Google search, bare-naked ladies (not the talented Canadian singing ones), on his iPod touch. We had a 'situation' here and I needed to deal with it. I didn't want my son to think he was that bad or a deviant.
There we sat, changing their outfits, brushing their "hair," with me doing my best falsetto voice, as we all got ready for the prom. My daughter, Kirsten, was giggling at me not so much for the voices, but for the fact she had put a lovely purple bow in my hair that matched Malibu Barbie's hair ribbon. We were having a blast!