I’ve known Chris for many years. He's brilliant and friendly and wonderful to his family. But a recent diagnosis changed his entire approach to life. And this Father's Day, he reflects on being an even better father and husband.

Not everyone gets to wake up from emergency brain surgery.

Luckily for me, my wife and my two incredible young daughters, I did just that. And I feel like I "woke up" in more ways than one. Here's my story.

For the first three hours of my eldest daughter Abigail’s life, I gazed deep into her eyes as I talked and sang to her. There she was, quietly looking back at me with her deep blue eyes, taking it all in. I was in a near-trance state, absolutely transfixed by this spark of new intellect and personality I beheld. It was overwhelming, finally to see my long-held hopes and dreams of fatherhood made real after so many years. My child was alive, and healthy, and beautiful. Perfect, even. And I was her father.  (The word "Abigail" means "Father's Joy" and her name couldn't have been more aptly chosen.)

Fast-forward six years (and I do mean FAST), to November 2012, just after Abi's 6th birthday, and my world fundamentally changed again.

It started with a series of intense migraines, which were ultimately diagnosed as brain cancer. In late November, neurosurgeons at Massachusetts General Hospital successfully removed a tumor from my right frontal lobe. It was the size of a small human fist.

During my recovery from surgery, time slowed to a crawl, as we waited for the all-important pathology report. This analysis would tell me whether my GBMO cancer was low-grade -- meaning the surgery was a cure -- or high-grade -- indicating I had one of the deadliest forms of cancer there is, with no known cure. To combat anxiety, I began practicing meditation, striving to live in the moment instead of worrying about the future.

On December 6, we got the initial pathology analysis, with the worst possible news: Grade 4. It was dizzying and terrifying. I'd learned that high-grade GBMO patients have a median life expectancy of 18 months. Time, which had practically stood still, now seemed to be rushing by. As a healthy 38-year-old, it seemed unfathomable. How could it be possible that I might have just months to live? My values, priorities and philosophy became incredibly clear, and they were about exactly one thing: Massive love for my family.

Then, in early January, surprising and oh-so-welcome news: More sophisticated genetic analysis showed the tumor cells had an all-important "IDH-1" mutation. This meant radiation and chemotherapy could help prevent recurrence. My condition could now be described as "manageable," and I could again hope to live a long life. I completed 6 weeks of intense radiation and chemo, continued with regular meditation, became a runner, changed my diet, and vowed never again to take my amazing family and the gift of time with them for granted.

We all hear about life-changing stories like mine now and then. We’re told by our own parents to cherish each moment with our kids. Scary stories in the news or in popular culture sometimes remind us to hold our loved ones close. But those reactions are often short-lived. Actually facing the prospect of leaving my family behind, and then learning I could in fact expect to live, has profoundly altered my perspective.

I’ve learned that being truly "present," staying in the here and now, is the fullest way to express love -- and makes for the happiest way to spend our days.

I’ve learned to stop and put down the smartphone or book, to turn away from the laptop or TV and engage fully with my daughters. As a result we experience wonderful moments of connection that will be with me, and with them, forever.

I’ve learned to take better care of my body and mind. I still run, eat mostly vegetarian and practice daily meditation. And I’ve lost 25 pounds.

I’ve learned to be mindful of the vast amounts of beauty and love around me. I have so much to be profoundly grateful for, every day.

Sometimes I feel like I was sleepwalking before, and I've woken up. And I feel, and hope, that I may have become a better father in the process. I also owe a large debt of gratitude to my own father, for his abiding love and calm and presence throughout my ordeal. He has been a wonderful role model to me.

Most of all, I'm just so deeply grateful for my wife and daughters and our shared lives. And I hold them close and tell them, many times each day, how much I love them.

On this Father's Day, I'd ask you dads (and moms) out there reading this to pause for a moment, and picture your children faced with the prospect of life without you. What moments would you want them to remember sharing with you? What message would you give them? Today would be a good day to tell them. There's no time like the present.

I want you to meet Katie M., our director of international caregiving programs, and based in St. Louis. Katie has had a lot of au pairs over the years, but this summer she’s hiring a nanny. Hear her funny side of why she secretly loves working over the summer.

My daughter has been asking for summer to arrive since the pool closed last September. She loves everything about it -- being barefoot, hours at the park, picnics in the yard, weekends at the lake and endless days playing in the neighborhood with her posse.  She loves summer.  My confession:  I resent it.

Now don’t get me wrong, I think all kids should have the summer of their dreams, but for a working mom, summer comes with its own mixed bag.  You know what I hate about the summer? The endless days with no routine. And the heat. The mosquitoes.  And the need to be outside All.The.Time.  Some summer days, I just want to sleep in or do a sudoku, grab a coffee and sit on my couch in the Air Conditioning. All day. Watching HGTV.

But it’s the kids. Even Dora the Explorer can’t keep them inside on a beautiful day.  I am all up for family time on the weekends and visits to the zoo or the pool.  But here’s the thing, I only have two days a week to be untethered from my laptop -- and my to-do list at home is waiting for my full attention.  The laundry, the cleaning, the grocery shopping -- they won’t disappear while I go on family bike rides and camping trips.  I need some relief from the expectations of my four year old.  Super Summer Mom.  I am not.

Luckily, I have learned that the mark of being a good parent is not meeting your kids every need -- but just making sure that the needs get met.  In this case, hiring a talented summer nanny to make those summer dreams come true is just the solution I need.  Here’s the to-do list I’m creating for her. With this list in mind, she can do all the frog catching, muddy slip n’ sliding, Chuck E. Cheese attending on my behalf.

See, everyone wins with the summer nanny.  My kids have a blast. I come home at the end of the day and get to see the joy in their faces (and mud on their hands). And then we get to have ice cream sundaes together and talk about our days. And my fun-loving nanny gets paid to have fun!

But of course, the job doesn’t come without a few rules. And yes, I recognize that some of these may seem contradictory. But it’s best that way!

1.   Healthy food only, please!  Our kids eat tons of junk with us.  Therefore, healthy meals and snacks are essential during the week.   Although my daughter will negotiate hard for candy and snow cones, please limit the snack foods from the pool concession stand.

2.   We want our kids to be able to play independently. They do it a lot on the weekends. But when you’re with them, please play with them all day.

3.   Pool Rules:  Yes, learning to swim is important. But keep their life jackets on anytime they’re at the pool with you.  Sunscreen everyday…multiple reapplications...please. 

4.   Children should have reading time every day.  Confession:  I actually detest reading the same books over and over with my children and often fall asleep while reading to them at night, so if you could follow-through on reading time, I would appreciate it!

5.   You need to be able to dance.  Our kids live for the Wii and Just Dance.  It will be important to my daughter that you can try to do all the moves.  She knows that we can't and thinks it is because we are old.  Since you are younger, she will expect that you can keep up with the avatars.

As a working parent, I honestly have a love/hate relationship with summer. The beautiful days often pass by me while I watch them from my office window. And my kids are having so much fun enjoying the "elements." But as someone who works so hard during the day, I feel I deserve to also do what I want on the weekends. So I can appreciate my nanny giving my children the summer they desire. I admire her energy and enthusiasm for all-things-kids. And I hope this summer is fun for her too. After all, she is the key to my summer sanity and while I won’t be sad to say goodbye to summer, I will certainly be sad to say goodbye to her.

Tell me, what do you love most about the summer with kids? What do you dread?

Stephanie Breedlove is the founder of Breedlove & Associates and head of Care.com HomePay and I can tell you -- I have never met a more engaging tax professional! And while all nanny employers should pay taxes, she explains why some careers are more at risk if they try to pay under the table.

I love dinner parties. Not just because I’m part Italian and a life-long foodie, but also because once people find out I work at a tax and payroll company, they always have interesting questions or stories for me.

At a recent gathering, I got to talking with a nice young couple who just moved into the neighborhood. They had a lot of questions about our school district, but admitted their kids were still in the "nanny years."

"Oh, yes. The nanny years."  I said knowingly.

They may have noticed that I’m a few years older (wink, wink), but they politely asked, "Do you have a nanny too?"

"I did for many years.  Now we run a nanny tax firm.  We started it 20 years ago when our boys were in diapers."

Longer pause.  I could see the wheels turning in her head.

So I changed the topic to them and their kids.  Found out she’s a lawyer.  He’s a corporate accountant. Kids are 4 and 2.  Loved the neighborhood so far.

But then she interrupted the small talk. "As an attorney and a CPA, what happens if we get caught not paying nanny taxes?"

I swallowed my drink – hard.  And smiled.  Wow.  I like a lady who can cut to the chase.

I explained what we’ve seen happen hundreds of times – fines and headaches from the IRS and state tax agencies on top of back taxes and interest charges.  Getting caught is expensive.   Perhaps the scariest part for them, though, was the potential for a felony tax evasion charge that could cause them to lose their professional licenses – and jeopardize their earning potential.

Yes, we hear about political figures getting lampooned in the national media.  But there are other careers that require a professional license or demand a high level of integrity (media figures, accountants, attorneys, financial planners, wealth managers and medical professionals, to name a few – see the rest of the list) >>

To ease their concern, I ended on a high note.  "The good news is it doesn’t cost much to eliminate that risk.  There are tax breaks when you pay your nanny on the books and they’ll offset most – maybe all – of your employer tax costs."

"Interesting" they said together. I could see the wheels turning again.

That couple has now become a client.

Some funny things can happen at dinner parties. But I’m always proud to take stress off people’s plates.

Stephanie and her team are here to help with any of your nanny tax questions as well. They can be reached at 888-273-3356.

This is a post from another Care.com employee who would like to remain anonymous. Planning an upcoming getaway with her husband, in which her mother-in-law and a babysitter will be caring for the kids, she wrote this satirical post on the care instructions she wished she could leave her MIL.

Dear Mom,

Thank you so much for staying with the kids for the weekend. Yes, they are so much taller (and heavier and faster) than when you saw them last. There have also been some rule changes since you last babysat and I figured I would put them in writing, so you’d have them in one place.

• Two-year olds don’t get swaddled. Please don’t try that again (or at least video tape it if you do this time!).
• Car seats are still a necessity. No, I’m not being a "Nervous Nellie." It’s the law. Google it.
• There’s no spanking. That includes threatening them with a wooden spoon.
• Yes, your grand-daughter still uses a Binky to soothe herself. No, I don’t know what she’s soothing. No, I don’t think she’s stressed. No, we don’t fight in front of her. Please don’t try to fix this on your two-day visit.
• Mc Donald’s has not gotten any healthier. And just because they have a playground doesn’t mean you have to go there every time you visit. Please avoid, unless you’re willing to stay home when the kids have Croup, Coxsackie… and Diabetes.
• Please don’t organize my drawers again. It took me three weeks to find everything last time you visited. And no, it wasn’t helpful.
• I booked you a babysitter on Saturday from 10 to 3. Don’t be a martyr and tell her to go home (again!). The kids wake up at 6 and knowing the adventures they will have put you through Friday night, you will need a break Saturday. Just go back to bed.
• Please don’t ask the babysitter about her sexual history. It’s none of your business. And it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s amazing with the kids. I don’t know why she’s still single.

On second thought, I’ll probably have the sitter come on Sunday too. Thanks for your help, Mom! Try to take it easy with them. They’re really into a super-hero phase right now. Tip: Don’t offer to become the bad guy or you might not be able to break free from "jail."

Well, you have your cell phone. Just keep it on you and call 911 in any emergency!

Oh, and will you leave me the recipe for your famous lasagna (or just make it and leave it in the fridge!) -- I am drooling just thinking about it.

Tell me, what would be on your list of instructions when your parents or in-laws care for your kids?

Rich Tobin works in sales for our Workplace Solutions team. He has two daughters who he wanted to connect with more. I love this post because it has a "Lean In" message too – how can we raise confident, female leaders? Rich has some ideas.

My daughter used to be attached at my side. She would sit in my lap, eat from my plate, cuddle with me on the couch. All she wanted to do was spend time with me. Now, at age 9, we had a great relationship but I realized that there was an entire side of her life that I knew very little about. Everyday she went off to school and had a life all her own that I did not get to see. How did she respond to her friends? What was she like on the playground and in class?

She was growing up so fast.

So when the town needed a lacrosse coach for her team, I decided this was my chance. I would coach my daughter and her friends in a game I played 20 years ago. I also saw this as a chance to build her competitive spirit. As someone in business, and a father of two girls, I want to make sure I’m raising strong leaders. Women who won’t back down to a more aggressive classmate, or colleague. Women who will stand up for their ideas and figure out ways to work with teams. I wanted to help build this next generation of working women – one girls’ lax team at a time.

So there they stood. The girls’ third and fourth grade lacrosse team. Some with tags still on their sticks. All looking at me as if I knew what I was doing. My only hope was that my daughter was proud of her new team’s coach.

Now, my background is in sales. I can talk to anyone and genuinely enjoy people. But forget managing teams or dealing with fussy customers -- getting 25, eight and nine year old girls to learn a new sport should be a requirement for every MBA program.

My goal: Get each one to love being part of a team and playing lacrosse. Forget about winning. Work together, but challenge each other. Have no fear of being aggressive. Have no qualms about leading I wanted to find a way each one of these ladies could take charge of a single moment – forget who they are trying to be – and just be. Yes, I wanted to see my daughter shine. But I realized I wanted to see all of these girls take off in some way.

When we started, these 25 girls barely knew how to throw a ball, let alone pick one up with their sticks. Some didn’t look me in the eyes. Some took charge when I wished they wouldn’t. But I had to keep in mind: This wasn’t about a game, it was about them. So two days a week we would spend time at practice together. We ran sprints. We did drills. We talked and shared game plans. Over and over again. Some days they glared at me. But most days they rallied. I loved seeing kids who did not hang out together at school come together on the field. And as the weeks progressed, I saw real skills develop. And I saw the timid became stronger and more confident.

But the biggest changes I could see were with my daughter. On the way home she’d talk about the game. She strategized with me. Discussing her day was no longer pulling teeth. It was fascinating to hear her thoughts. See the team in her eyes. We’d share what the team did right and what needed to be fixed. We discussed line changes and improvements we saw.

I was connecting with my amazing little girl again. And she really understood how much her opinion mattered to me.

In the end, we had some wins and some losses. I’ll never forget the first time our team won a face-off, completed three passes without dropping the ball and scored a goal. That day, I came home thinking I was the world’s best coach. But the truth was, it was never about the games, it was about getting to know my daughter at this new age. Knowing her friends, seeing her interact, learning that her world is way more complex than I knew, watching her fall in love with a sport, and bonding with her on a new level. And I could only hope the parents of the other kids were seeing something new in their daughters' eyes. I hoped they were seeing their daughters take charge of more at home, being more confident in their decisions, opening up to them as a team – and I hoped they were encouraging it.

One coach and one season isn’t going to make a world of difference. But it’s a start. I saw my daughter grow from kid to budding leader, from silliness to decision maker. And for her, I know she sees that I made an effort. An effort to get to know her and to grow closer to her. But it was even more than that. She and I became our own team. And that was the only win I needed.

I’ve already signed up for next year.

In honor of Mother’s Day, I want to show you a beautiful letter a Care.com employee, Gina wrote to her mom. Gina works on our Member Care team and manages our employees (mostly moms) who work from home. As a working mother myself, I hope my children feel the same way as Gina one day!

My Dearest Momma,

One day doesn’t seem like enough. One letter, words on a page, doesn’t seem enough. How can I express the gratitude for a lifetime of nurturing love you have invested -- that has literally made me all that I am today? And all that I want my own child to feel one day as well.

This Mother’s Day, I guess all I can do is try. I can try to illustrate just how meaningful all of your hard work has been. Hard Work. Words I know well. So do you. As I mother now, I only have small glimpses into how challenging your life has been. With five mouths to feed. When being a woman mainly meant being domestic. You were determined to contribute to the household - yet you still managed to give us all so much comfort and attention. How?

Now, as a working mother with 1/5 the workload (my gorgeous little 2 year old girl), I think back to when you first started teaching art classes in our home. Eventually, we had a living room packed with your students two to three nights a week. Women from all over came. My friends’ moms came. And you made them feel like true artists. Then you helped them sell their art and make money for their families – from their budding new talent.

Now, I realize why you did this. Now, I see the timing of your art shows lined up perfectly with wanting to buy us back to school clothes and supplies – and wanting to put Christmas presents under our tree.

There may have been times when I wondered why you worked so hard. Why you had to take a call or meet with a student. Why you had to work late. But I get it now.

When I struggle with my own journey as a working mother today, I think back on what you showed me. You knew that you were a fantastic mom and an excellent entrepreneur. You wanted to share your passion for art, and you inspired so many other women around you. You supported our family. And in the end, you showed your children what it means to be a strong, successful working mom.

I hope I can show my daughter the same thing. I work because I love it. I’ve found something that challenges me, fulfills me, and that I know I’m good at. I love that I help to support my family. And this is on top of the love I feel being a Mom. Yes, it’s tough. I miss my amazing, ever-changing sweet girl each and every day. I hate walking out that door. But I love walking into my role here. I love the person I am at home – and at my job. I only hope I can be the role model to my baby that you were to me.

I hope that she feels like she always comes first in my life. I hope she grows up knowing that she can ask for my help with anything. No, I might not have the time to make lunches, go sledding, attend parent-teacher meetings, and help solve homework problems. But I’ll make the time. (How did you do that Mom?) I hope she’ll always feel safe knowing that nothing will come between us, even if I have to travel for work or take a trip to visit girlfriends who live far away. I hope she grows up proud of her Momma for trying to juggle it all, for being a good friend, a hard-working employee, and the best boo-boo kisser on the planet.

But I hope she sees my flaws too. Mom, I know you aren’t perfect. But that was your charm. You worked at being better, and that was perfect to me.

I hope my daughter never accuses me of loving my job more than her. But if she does, I will have to say: Baby, you are my world the way I was my Momma’s world. But you were given a gift, the way I was given a gift. And that gift is your drive to succeed, your compassion for people, your leadership skills. I’ve seen this from the time you were a year old. I work because I love it, but Sweet Girl, there is a difference between the love I have for my projects and the love I have for you. The love I have for work is in my brain and in my paycheck. But the love I have for you is felt deep down in my core. It is who I am – who I became the moment you entered my world. I will always define myself as your Momma first and an employee second. We are connected at the core. And one day, I know you will feel this too.

Happy Mother’s Day, Momma. Thank you for giving me the gifts of being passionate for my work and my family. Thank you for being the role model I needed when I was young – and helping me blaze a trail for what I know my daughter can become. Thank you.

Tell me, what do you appreciate your Mom for this Mother’s Day? What do you hope you pass down to your children one day?


P.S. Here's a fun Mother's Day video for your amusement!

 

Last week, the panic around Boston was felt on a local, national and international level. And as parents of young children, we are faced with an important decision: Do we tell our innocent, happy children this tragic news? Chris Duchesne, our VP of Workplace Solutions discusses the choice he made – and why this was so hard on a personal level.


My kids are lucky.  They don’t really know about ‘bad’ things yet.  They don’t know that bad things happen on bright, beautiful days.  They happen unexpectedly on downright nice days – to nice people.  September 11, 2001 was sunny and clear – by all accounts a gorgeous day.  April 15, 2013, the day of the Boston Marathon was much the same.  It was a great day for a run.

As events of last week’s bombing unfolded I was faced with the same choice as so many other parents – do I tell the kids?  Do I let them watch the news with me?  Listen to the radio?  Would I share with them the sickening feeling the bombings had created in me when I heard about them?  Could I explain that scary things happen while still making them feel safe?  Why would the 3-year-old need to know about it?  Would the 5-year-old even understand, and did she need to?  What was the benefit in that? How many people and places was the 7-year-old going to hear about it from and did I need to preempt them?

It was school vacation week and my 7-year-old was supposed to spend the last half of the week with his grandparents in Boston.  They had plans to go to the circus, the park, breakfast with Papa.  How could I explain to him that he wasn’t going to be able to go to the circus because they hadn’t caught the bombers and I didn’t want to take a chance that the arena would be their next target? He worries.  A lot.  How could I tell him that and feel like he wouldn’t worry about it for weeks, and each time we go into Boston?

I like to run.  My wife and I often run races together, and we always have someone bring the kids to watch us.  When there’s a race in town and we’re not running, we all sit on the sidelines and cheer the runners on.  The kids love to give everyone high-fives as they run by.  I’ve long been hoping that the kids will like to run too – that it will be something we can do together.  So I was excited when my 7-year-old recently announced that he was going to run a 5K and that he wanted to start training.  The day before the marathon, we took him to the track to run a mile.  How was I going to explain to him the next day that someone killed people at a race?  That terrible people had targeted innocent people at a running event.

So I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want to take the chance that he would turn away from running.  That he’d be fearful and worry at each road race.  I didn’t want to ruin it for him.

But I am torn. While I don’t want them to know about the terrible and scary things that bad people can do. I do want them to recognize that what matters, what’s most important, is how we, Americans, react.  We’re people of action.  We help those in need.  We refuse to let bad people scare us.  In fact, bad people make us angry.  We have no tolerance for people that hurt others.  We don’t stand for them.  We pursue them relentlessly, wherever they are and we bring them to justice.  And we don’t let them change what we do. We announce the next day that we will run again next year, in bigger numbers, with even more purpose, louder, prouder.   I want them to know that setbacks happen.  That we – Americans – push on and push through .

As a parent, we’re constantly faced with decisions, and it’s sometimes hard to know whether you’re getting it right.  Maybe it’s because I want to keep my house a "safe-zone" of sadness, panic and worry. Maybe I want to preserve Boston as a safe family destination. Maybe I’m protecting my kids – and myself. But in the end, I chose not to tell my kids.  There will be other opportunities, another time.  For now, I will take pride in our response to the bombings and help my son train for his first 5K.  I have visions that someday he’ll run the Boston Marathon and I’ll be there, proud and unafraid, to meet him at the finish line.

But if one of them hears from a friend – and I realize that I do need to tell them -- I will bring it on their level. I will explain that there were two bad men who hurt people at the Boston Marathon. And they were caught. But that our job is to not let bad people stop us from living our lives – and from doing what we love, which is running. And then I will use the London Marathon as an example of a runner’s unbeaten spirit.

Tell me, did you tell your kids about the Boston Marathon? If so, what did you say? How did they react? Or, are you like me and hoping to keep them innocent and worry-free for as long as possible?

And if you need help talking to your kids about the events, here is an article from Care.com on talking to kids about violent acts.