Rose Grady, FNP-C and Maddie Smith FNP-C, family nurse practitioners and toddler moms in Central Ohio who are behind Two NPs in a Pod (Instagram) joined The Dadass Podcast this week. They gave five ways men can take charge of their life right now. Listen to the episode or read their guest blog post below.

Stay Up To Date on Your Preventive Health Screenings
We recommend you see your primary care provider (PCP) at least annually to address health screenings you may be due for, goals you have for your health and any physical or mental health concerns you may have. At this appointment the following subjects may be discussed with you: blood sugar control, cholesterol, colorectal cancer screening, prostate cancer screening, at-home testicular screening, dental cleanings, eye exam, and lung cancer screening for current or former tobacco users. 

Know Your Risk
Not everyone is at an equal risk for developing chronic health conditions, such as diabetes or high blood pressure, or more serious diagnoses, like an autoimmune disease or cancer. Interview your family members to gather as complete of a family medical history as possible. Knowing this information will provide you and your primary care provider the most complete information to make the best recommendations for the timing and frequency of your health screenings.

If You See/Feel Something, Say Something
This point is emphasized by our nursing backgrounds: Maddie in the ICU and Rose in inpatient oncology. Don't wait until a health concern becomes troublesome to your daily life to then seek medical care. Now, we don't want you rushing to your PCP's office for every cold symptom you experience, but if you notice something starting to impact you physically or mentally, don't hesitate to talk with your PCP. Most health conditions are far easier to treat in the early stages.

Prioritize Bettering Your Mental Health
Mental and physical health are tied together. When one starts to depreciate, the other follows suit. Although increased awareness has shed light on the importance of mental health as of recent, mental health isn't always as prioritized as physical health. Take charge of your mental health by fostering friendships, getting outside, and scheduling activities into your schedule that bring you joy, such as exercise, music or another form of art creation/appreciation. 

And on that note...

Set Boundaries, and Keep Them
This can be harder to do as a younger person starting off in a career or relationship, but setting professional and personal boundaries to protect both your physical and mental health is crucial. If an opportunity presents itself that may compromise your health in some way, say no.  Your peace is incredibly valuable. A "no" that may seem like you're letting others down in the present could very well be a "yes" to better physical and/or mental health in the long run. 

My youngest is admittedly a mommy’s girl. She also just turned three this summer, and despite her age, still has a raging case of the terrible twos, where opinions are fierce and sensibilities are inconsistent.

I had two tickets to our Columbus Blue Jackets’ last home preseason game. Both of my older two kids have been fortunate enough to visit Nationwide Arena for a few games in the past. Given this was an exhibition, I figured this was a low risk, tremendous opportunity to indoctrinate my youngest to the game of professional hockey and a perfect time for some daddy/daughter time. Because she has two siblings around, I don’t always get many opportunities to hang with just her solo. 

With a 7 pm puck drop, my plan was to get downtown early, settle into our seats for warm-ups, stay for the first period, and get back to the cozy confines of our home in time for a reasonable weeknight bedtime and avoid unleashing any toddler tantrums.

The first sign the night might go eskew occurred when I received an email at the close of business that the game was delayed a half hour due to issues with the St. Louis Blues’ (the Jackets’ opponent) airplane. This gave us some surplus flexibility, which is always appreciated when doing anything with children. 

All was well until we hit unforeseen highway traffic navigating to the arena. What should’ve been a 20 minute drive, doubled in duration, and my leisurely pregame plans were tightened significantly.
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We parked, and instead of moseying to the game, I threw my daughter on my shoulders for the two-block walk to save time (and her stubby little legs). No friction entering the arena, buying her a treat (Sour Patch Kids which she insisted she’d like, but didn’t at all) and getting to our seats - all with minutes to spare before the new alleged puck drop. 

There is a new favorite story in our household. Much like the “feather wand” episode of Bluey, this story is on repeat almost every hour. It’s not the personal triumph of wearing pull ups or graduating into pre-school. No sir. It’s that time I ate bear poop.

Let me give you a little context on this fecal spectacular. I was hiking with our son and some friends who had their four-year-old with them. While on the trail in the White Mountains, I stayed back and found the exciting excrement from a black bear on the side of the trail. By that I mean I chewed up a Tootsie Roll and placed it over the wrapper, placed it on the trail and yelled in excitement.

The two ran towards me with excitement. The crouched down to examine it with me. I proceeded to show them the texture, how it is still wet which means its fresh. When one of the little explores asked how I knew it was of a black bear, I showed them features followed by taking a bite out of it. While chewing curiously, I explained how typically these bear eat berries and it tends to be sweeter in taste. They were equal parts stoked and sick to their stomachs. To where I lost my composure and began telling them what it really was.

For the remainder of the trip, I was called out for eating poop and for telling lies. Ever since, I’ve almost had daily tellings of the story. Grandma knows now, the high schooler with super-fast bagging skills at Giant Eagle knows and now you do too. I ate bear poop, and I liked it.

In my past life I was a tripping guide in Maine and New Hampshire. For months, I led age-appropriate hikes through trails and on mountains for kids ages 8-15. I learned some fun games and pranks to pull on kids along the way. This particular prank I waited years to pull on my own son, and I seized that opportunity.

This was something I’ve always wanted to do and had the opportunity to make a memory with more than just my own son. We’ll cherish this for years to come. I’m willing to bet the other half of the Tootsie Roll that it will be brought up on our next hike, and I totally welcome it.

While recently a presenter at the HomeDadCon in Phoenix, put on by the National At Home Dad Network, I had the opportunity to learn from men who care for their families full time. I heard countless stories of memories these men have made with their children during even the most simple of daily tasks. One man shared a story that struck me hard. Because of physical challenges he’s unable to help his child overcome challenges with sports, especially when he sees how awful his son is at it. After hearing his story and wiping countless tears from my face, all I could think about were all the times I put off or denied an opportunity with my son that I’m completely capable of doing. There’s no reason not to jump all in!

​As I am retold the story of how I ate bear poop on our vacation, I think of it as the building block of how moving forward as a dad and husband I will not put off making another memory because “I’m not able to right now” or because “it’s too hot to go outside and play baseball.” If I’m capable, I’m going to make our own fun and do what Robin Williams suggested “Carpe Diem,” seize the bear crap.

-Matt Lofy, regular contributor

If you recall years ago hearing a heroic tale of a wealthy antagonist stealing from the poor throughout his kingdom only to wind up losing in the end, I’m sure you can relive the uplifting spirit you were left with.

In this particular tale, I’m referring to four years ago when a former Columbus Crew SC owner, whose name shall remain out of this post, attempted to steal our hometown soccer club from us. As a result, many, including myself, passionately supported the Save the Crew movement. After a grueling grassroots effort, the fans won and kicked his sorry tail out of here.

In many of my personal and professional circles, I made my feelings known of this man, resulting in me becoming a go to source for updates with those I came into contact. Although, not actively involved like those who led the movement, I did my part in the ways that I could. During one conversation in a professional setting someone asked me, “why are you so invested in saving the team?”

It was an easy answer: "because one day I want to share the experience of going to a match and the joys it’s brought me with a future little Loafer.”

That day that I had dreamt about came on Sunday, July 3 when I got to take my son to his first match. Completely last minute and prompted during a living room soccer match when he said he wanted to “go watch soccer.” I messaged our Crews Crew Facebook chat, confirmed all my friends who are still season ticket holders were going and bought tickets two hours before kick-off.

With a solid three-hour long nap for the little guy and a makeshift diaper bag packed with the bare necessities we set off. Singing the entire ride down to the LDC, we were both amped up. Of course, this didn’t happen smoothly thanks in part to a minor injury in the parking lot. After quickly triaging a skinned knee the two of us met friends for a happy hour beer and soda. With drinks in hand, we met Crew Cat, got scared of Crew Cat, got free ice cream, and greeted everyone with a “go Crew!”

In attempts to not lose his attention, we broke from the group so he could walk around and see the pitch for the first time in person. The moment his little eyes locked in on that thick, bright sea of green accompanied by the magnitude of his first soccer stadium made me realize how massive of a moment this was. All the passionate and sometime colorfully articulated reasons why the Crew should be saved became more than just saving a soccer club - it was for this very moment in time.

Kickoff was at his bedtime, so we didn’t last long. For a kid who has no attention span and doesn’t stay seated long, he slowly chewed his pretzel and took in the first half. Between the occasional “go Crew” and “I want to go down there to play soccer” requests he was locked in. This first match experience was everything I had hoped, as I experienced an immense amount of love for those hours of July 3. It may have been a 0-0 draw, but I went home the winner that evening.

​-Matt Lofy, Regular Contributor

I remember saying when our son was only months old, “I can’t wait until he’s more fun.” Then he started to walk , which quickly escalated into a hurried, unbalanced shuffle.

Not long after, I remember saying, “I can’t wait for him to talk.” He’s two and a half now, and that boy doesn’t stop. There’s no off switch or mute button on the kid. I’d like to think he gets it from his mother, but I’m the one with the podcast!

There’s a couple of memorable phrases he now often says. For instance, if you ask him if he had a good day at daycare, he’ll have a reflective look on his face and reply as if he’s a philosopher “I did…and I didn’t.” It’s also the same answer when we ask him if he gave his cheese stick to the dog.

The one that really hit home recently, is his improper use of “that’s impossible.” It can be one of the most mundane stories from work or when we ask if it was he who tooted. He responds with an exacerbated tone, “what…that’s impossible.” Son, I assure you I sat through that meeting at work, and I also got a fresh whiff of the smell when you ran by me.

For me personally, his “what…that’s impossible,” quite possibly can be the most thought-provoking phrase I’ve heard in recent memory. I’ve found myself reflecting in regard to his progress through the past months. It’s impossible at two and a half, that he’s carrying the garbage bag on trash night showing me how it’s done. While I mow the lawn, he now tells me to straighten my lines. It’s impossible that he is aware enough to notice that.

There is so much joy in hearing that phrase come out of his mouth. Although used improperly, his response is genuine excitement in the things we as adults lack the same sentiment. It has provided a reason to stop and take stock in the possibilities this little chatter box has currently before him and in the months ahead.

It’s a reminder that in the words of Walt Disney, "it's kind of fun to do the impossible.” If the little guy can’t believe it happened, then as his dad I can keep surprising him and finding ways to blow his mind. I have the opportunity as a father to put aside what I believe are simple joys and just cherish the moments that I can provide him the memories of the impossible.

​My question for you Dads who read this is simple, “What are you doing for your little one(s) to make the impossible, possible?”

-Matt Lofy, Regular Contributor