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Realize he’s not a girl. Wrestle with him. Do physical things with him -sport, yardwork, labor. He’ll want to help when he’s little -praise him for it, don’t keep him away to “keep him safe” or because he’s inconvenient.

By the time he’s like eight, he’ll be done with “helping”. Then they’re chores. Teach him responsibility by insisting the work gets done first, and then reward him by protecting his free time. Don’t let his mother bother him with endless tasks that eat up all his recreation, have her save them up so they all get done at once. This requires both a spine and a good relationship with his mother. Keep him in physical activity. Don’t force him to do YOUR favorite sport/physical thing, let him pick what he does, but force him to stick with whatever he picks.

Don’t insist that he be the best, but insist that he work the hardest. Grades? are irrelevant except as a reflection of effort, and you are his judge. If he fails despite his efforts, reward his efforts and give him the encouragement to pick himself back up to try again. But if he fails from lack of effort, punish his lack of effort. Insist he learn a useful or marketable skill. Don’t pick one for him, let him pick, but insist that he picks one. Computer repair, carpentry, auto mechanics, landscaping, concrete or masonry, welding… whatever, the skill doesn’t matter, the personal development that comes from the pursuit of mastery is what matters. The fact that he will always have a backup trade he can fall back on no matter what profession he pursues, also matters. Teach him to defend himself. If you don’t know how, you ought to fix that, but at least send him to someone who does. The character development that comes from knowing you have become competent at violence, and the discipline and responsibility that comes from not exercising that skill inappropriately, is important. This is getting long, but fuck it. This is important and I got shit to say.

https://centipedenation.com/second-column/solid-dad-advice-from-anon/

Realize he’s not a girl. Wrestle with him. Do physical things with him -sport, yardwork, labor. He’ll want to help when he’s little -praise him for it, don’t keep him away to “keep him safe” or because he’s inconvenient. By the time he’s like eight, he’ll be done with “helping”. Then they’re chores. Teach him responsibility by insisting the work gets done first, and then reward him by protecting his free time. Don’t let his mother bother him with endless tasks that eat up all his recreation, have her save them up so they all get done at once. This requires both a spine and a good relationship with his mother. Keep him in physical activity. Don’t force him to do YOUR favorite sport/physical thing, let him pick what he does, but force him to stick with whatever he picks. Don’t insist that he be the best, but insist that he work the hardest. Grades? are irrelevant except as a reflection of effort, and you are his judge. If he fails despite his efforts, reward his efforts and give him the encouragement to pick himself back up to try again. But if he fails from lack of effort, punish his lack of effort. Insist he learn a useful or marketable skill. Don’t pick one for him, let him pick, but insist that he picks one. Computer repair, carpentry, auto mechanics, landscaping, concrete or masonry, welding… whatever, the skill doesn’t matter, the personal development that comes from the pursuit of mastery is what matters. The fact that he will always have a backup trade he can fall back on no matter what profession he pursues, also matters. Teach him to defend himself. If you don’t know how, you ought to fix that, but at least send him to someone who does. The character development that comes from knowing you have become competent at violence, and the discipline and responsibility that comes from not exercising that skill inappropriately, is important. This is getting long, but fuck it. This is important and I got shit to say. https://centipedenation.com/second-column/solid-dad-advice-from-anon/

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You are correct. Most important, is spend time together. Even better if it's doing productive things like yard work or home improvement.

I'll admit, I had something most kids will never get. My Grandparents raised me after my own parents divorced and basically abandoned me and my two siblings. I have to add, my Grandparents were in many ways dysfunctional parents and went off into fanaticism regarding diet and religion but there were good points.

Around ten years old my Grandpa started taking me out to the bees with him as he was a commercial beekeeper. Long days driving to bee yards, checking hives with me puffing smoke as he directed me or chopping weeds away from the bee hive entrances. Some times he didn't really need me and let me explore around the area on my own so long as I was within hearing so I could come back when he honked the horn. Those were the best days but he wasn't much of a talker and didn't relate well to children so I got to hear a bit of his grown up talk. I also had to toughen up a bit as one night in particular we came to the bee location with a load of hives and he waited till sunup to unload in the daylight. He actually kicked me out of the truck so he could lay down on the seat and I had to go lay out in the weeds and cold. No blanket. I hate to admit it but my ten year old self cried. Angry tears because of the cold and the unfairness of it all. I had no idea he didn't plan kick me out and think to bring a blanket or something for me. If it was my son I would have given him a tarp and a bedroll at least so he could sleep comfortably. Maybe even sleep out under the stars with him so he wouldn't be alone with the rattlesnakes and spiders. I must have wandered around in the dark for five minutes wondering what to do until I found a patch of dried grass to lay down on.

By the time I was 17 he was letting me drive the big flat bed trucks and letting me load and unload bee hives. I even got to deliver a load of honey drums to the packing plant and pick up empties. I was running the processing operation, going out with a crew to take off honey and put on supers, packing honey up in drums with tare, gross, and net weights, marking them for this and adding batch numbers for tracking. That same year I sourced a mother board for a centrifuge in LA and got the controls reinstalled all on my own, repaired conveyor belts and decapping machine, managed employees and learned how to deal with employee problems, etc. The one thing I wish Grandpa could have done was give me credit and some praise for getting things done right. I would have swooned with happiness.