Earlier this year my oldest son turned sixteen and thus earned another milestone victory in his journey to manhood; the highly coveted driver’s license. This was also a milestone for me as a dad, having a new driver in the family. I understand now why my dad could never go to bed until he saw my truck pull in the driveway when I was a teen. He is actually a pretty good driver, but I am going to absorb some of that credit. Surprisingly, I was very patient with him while we practiced together. That is not how I thought I would be. My wife’s favorite description of me is intense. But somehow, I realized that his confidence behind the wheel would not grow if his front seat passenger was scared to death.

As his driving skills increased, I began taking him out on the highway. Once I felt comfortable with his highway driving (we live in a rural area so keep that in mind), I introduced him to cruise control. His mind was blown. I taught him how to safely use it and how when it is applied, he cannot forget that he is still responsible, accountable, and in charge of the vehicle. My wife’s new vehicle has a newer version of cruise control and I hate it. It adjusts the speed and applies the brakes when it feels necessary. I assure you that the car’s understanding of “necessary” and mine are not in alignment. My wife loves it, but I am old school and trust myself far greater than a machine.

As I was working on a chapter for my book, a book for dads looking for a complete foundation or just a little help on how to connect with their sons, I typed the following line, “…you cannot father from cruise control.” This line came after I explained how my oldest two sons were easy. Here is a full excerpt:

              “My first two sons were easy. They are two years apart and are best friends. They have grown up together and since they were going through life close in age and did everything together including sharing a room, it was easy to give them both my attention. I was also younger then and did not have to work as hard to create the energy it took to stay on top and ahead of them. My wife and I developed some great systems and held them and ourselves accountable to those. Then, we were unexpectedly blessed with our youngest son. He came along six years after our middle son. He is 100% unique from his brothers and I wouldn’t have it any other way. In the second grade, he was diagnosed with ADHD and a processing disorder. Thus, he did not fit right into the disciplinary mold we created for our other two. We have had to scrap those systems and create new ones. It is still a work in progress! I greatly appreciate him. He has challenged me to be a better dad and has taught me that you cannot father from cruise control.”

When Zane was two years old, he and my wife survived a tornado. For those of you who follow my writing, yes, I know I talk a lot about the tornado. There is a reason for that. It was a milestone moment for my family and a catalyst to launch us forward. My wife held Zane closely while shards of glass and other debris blew through sheetrock and whizzed past their heads. My wife would later take me to the bathroom where they took shelter and showed me the walls that were riddled with holes and some pieces of glass were still lodged protruding through both sides of the wall. The years succeeding this time would be chaotic and filled with stress. It took most of the next year to rebuild our physical home, but real home, our family, would take even longer to put back together. You can read all about this in my series How To Survive A Tornado.

A therapist would later link the behaviors we saw in Zane to the experience he had during the tornado. It made sense. I would later realize that I had put my role in the family, husband/father, on cruise control while I went full bore rebuilding and tending to the other leadership areas in my business and life. I had forgot the principle that I taught my son about cruise control. I applied the driver assistance for my family, but did not remain responsible, accountable, and in charge. Over the past year I realized that Zane deserved so much greater than cruise control from his father. When talk of medication began to arise, I felt like someone punched me in the gut. It reminded me of when I was a freshman in high school. In practice one day, I went up for a pass over the deep middle and the quarterback threw it high. As I jumped and reached as high as I could, our senior free safety put his shoulder in my stomach. The air left my body, and I went down, out cold. As I woke up, one of the coaches was leaning over me and chuckling. He said that I asked for my mommy. I don’t believe that I actually said that, but maybe I did, only he knows the truth.  But this is how I felt as Zane’s father. The air was knocked out of me. But this time I couldn’t ask for my mommy.

“The Summer of Dad” was birthed out of this moment. The idea to move forward with my website, Man Among Boys, came shortly after the tornado while we were displaced from our home. But the idea to name, fine tune, and promote the program I had already been developing came from that moment. Most of what I post on social media for #TheSummerOfDad has to do with Zane and I. This is the reason. This is for him. And this is for you. I want to use it to encourage dads all over the globe to dedicate a window of time to develop some habits. The whole point of The Summer of Dad is to be so intentional with your kids that when you complete it, new habits are formed concerning how you view the short amount of time you have with your kids each day, week, year, and childhood. In the blink of an eye, your baby is walking and talking, then starting school, getting a driver’s license, and finally moving out. Wouldn’t you like to look back on those years knowing that you led and served your family with intentionality?

This is why I said, “You cannot father [or mother] from cruise control.” You cannot remove your foot from the pedals. You cannot press a button and rely on the machine to do the work. If you want to truly connect with your son, who will be a part of what I hope is a great generation of men, you have to know how to connect with him. It takes work but I am willing to help you get there. I used to coach football with an old defense coach who always told our players, “If it happens full speed, it can’t be bad.” Well, men, if you have a desire to connect with your son, then do it full speed. “Full speed” in this case means intentional and consistent. Be intentional with every effort you make and do it consistently. Set times and dates if needed and put away every distraction. The television cannot come before your son, nor the computer, video games, hobbies, (fill in the blank), etc. Start inserting time with your son into these slots if you have not already. There are areas that I can help smooth the rough edges, but if you can just start here, you will see your relationship with your son begin to improve.

Do it full speed.