Three inexpensive holiday gifts for your son that will endure for years

December 3, 2019

Perhaps this sounds familiar: You’re a Dad with a son who has everything he needs and most of what he wants and you’re a bit helpless as the Christmas frenzy escalates. As the father of three boys, I know exactly how you feel.

That’s why, one December when reaching this frustration point I decided it was time for a major-league change. Forget the gifts that bring a sugar-high joy but are discarded in a month. I was going to give them items that had staying power.

What I didn’t know is that these thoughtful, inexpensive gifts would endure for years, right up to today. And here they are:

The Year in Review

Every kid produces a record. And by that I mean: schoolwork, art drawings (yes, from when they were four-years old), photos from the last soccer season and winter swim meets and the family vacation; a program from the college football game that he insists on keeping; the Earth Day report with glued leaves and twigs; test papers and report cards and the certificate from the Science Fair and the community newspaper article with his name in it. I could go on but I imagine you get it. Like many parents, I’ve held onto it all.

The day after Thanksgiving, I rummaged around throughout the house, basement, and attic, gathered up all this kid flotsam and then carefully sorted it, making a stack for each kid. Photos and other docs that were on my computer – I printed them all out.

Then, I painstakingly placed the items in plastic sheet protectors and to each added a whimsical note. All was inserted in a three-ring binder for each kid, on which the front was written, “The Year in Review.” Yeah, a scrapbook, with the items chosen for maximum joy and inspiration and laughs.

The binders were the hit of our Christmas. This wasn’t a material thing – it was an entire year of page-by-page good memories and surprisingly, they were pored over throughout the year by the boys.

In fact, “The Year in Review” has been going now been going for 16 years. It’s easy and rewarding to put together - I make a point throughout the year of keeping every document and photo related to each son.

Indeed, the “Year” provided all three sons with a priceless glimpse of their achievements and happy times. As they got older, one year set the bar for the next, and they kept raising the bar. The accomplishments became more important, the events more momentous, the memories stronger, the stakes higher. The Year was a constant and colorful reminder of what they had achieved.

When the eldest kid, out of college, was at home packing his gear for a Naval deployment in the Far East, I offhandedly asked him what he was taking, “Volume two.” he said simply. “If I get homesick, I can pull it out.”

The Saturday Bleacher Report

Most Dads know it takes effort to spend unrushed and undistracted time with your son. You’re grinding at work all week, your kid is at school, there are after-school activities, he’s got homework, it’s now 8 p.m. and you’re already thinking about tomorrow. It’s the iron grip of the Schedule.

After yet another year of this perpetual motion machine, I decided to get a grip on this madness and take control. I sat them all down one weekend morning in December and said, “Guys, we’ve been all over the map this year and it’s no good. Next year is going to be different and you’ll see what I mean on Christmas Day.” From the web, I downloaded three copies of a blank office calendar for the next year and performed some primitive artwork on each with colored pencils.

On Christmas Day, I distributed a calendar to each kid. “Ok, you’re wondering, what’s the deal here? We’re going into a hard routine, gents. You will notice that each Saturday as marked on your calendar, one of you lucky guys – just one - leaves with me at 9 and will be home by noon. If you have a game, it’s gonna be Sunday. There’s only one requirement for each Saturday: Be prepared to run and to talk.”

Over time, this became known as the Saturday Morning Bleacher Report. I and the designated son would grab some breakfast at a local diner and then go to the fields at the local high school, which on any given Saturday morning is one of the most peaceful places on the planet. We’d throw around a football or lacrosse ball or a baseball for an hour and afterwards, sprawl across several rows of bleacher benches and just talk. It was simple – I’d think up some topics to draw him out and then we’d slide into the rundown: How’d the week go? Name one big success, one big fail; ok, here’s what happened during my week. What’s coming up that makes you nervous, confident? There were zero distractions; the phones were left in car, there were no brothers to interrupt - just the fields stretching before us as we graduated from everyday stuff to serious stuff.

This routine never varied. As the years went on, the conversations became more important inasmuch as the boys were wrestling with academics and sports and friends and the college matters.

The Bleacher Report never ended. My youngest kid was home from college over this past Thanksgiving and I’ll let you guess where Saturday found us.

3. My book – Four Lessons from My Three Sons: How You Can Raise Resilient Kids.

Ok, any easy pitch. This gem is only 60-pages long, a 45-minute read, hard and fast and funny. It tells the story of how I raised my kids and propelled them to the U.S. Naval Academy, Williams College, and West Point. It’s a step-by-step guide on how to develop boys who are steadfast in conduct, character, and ambition.

There you are - three simple, inexpensive gifts that could fundamentally change how you interact with and motivate your son. Indeed, three Christmas presents with a shelf life not for a month, but for years to come.

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ABOUT THE BOOK

Every Dad in America wants to raise a resilient kid. Four Lessons from My Three Sons charts the course.

Written by a good-natured but unyielding father, this slim volume describes how his off-beat and yet powerful forms of encouragement helped his sons obtain the assurance, strength and integrity needed to achieve personal success and satisfaction. This book isn't 300 pages of pop child psychology or a fatherhood "journey" filled with jargon and equivocation. It's tough and hard and fast. It’s about how three boys made their way to the U.S. Naval Academy, Williams, and West Point – and beyond.

GET THE BOOK NOW

Flag duty and the end of 30 years in politics

By Jeff Nelligan • January 29, 2026

It's 8:30 a.m. on a humid August Tuesday and I’m on the roof of the U.S. Capitol, the Dome rising 280 feet directly above. In my arms is a stack of thin boxes and I’m navigating a plywood gangplank leading to a rusted 15-foot flagpole. A colleague joins me carrying more boxes. She opens one and hands me a 2’ by 4’ American flag which I affix to the pole’s lanyard, raise and lower quickly, unfasten and hand to her as she hands me another. A third colleague brings out more boxes and retrieves the ones containing flown flags. This little dance continues for three straight hours. Afterwards, my colleagues and I carefully re-fold each flag and affix to it a “Certificate of Authenticity from the Architect of the Capitol” reading “This flag was flown over the U.S. Capitol in honor of____” and fill in the blank: “The Greater Bakersfield, California Chamber of Commerce”…the 80 th birthday of Wilbert Robinson of Bowie, Maryland, proud veteran of the Vietnam War…” We will perform this task for five days a week until Congress returns from recess. This is my very first job in Washington, D.C. and obviously, I have what it takes. *** Flag duty began my 32-year run in politics and government, which ended last week. It included four tours of duty on Capitol Hill working for three Members of Congress, two Presidential appointments serving Cabinet officers in the Departments of State and Health and Human Services, posts at two independent agencies, and a career position at FDA. The jobs were a mix of purely political positions where being on the south side of an election meant cleaning out your desk and getting good at catchy LinkedIn posts – twice that happened - and career federal government stints where the stakes were less exhilarating. *** I worked principally as press secretary and special assistant. The former job, a common D.C. occupation, was transformed in 2008 with the onset of social media, morphing from daily pronouncements of your boss’s wisdom on the issues of the day to rapid-fire postings on the obvious unreasonableness, even cruelties of your opponents. Sound familiar? As for the latter occupational specialty, special assistant, the terms ‘bagman’ or ‘fixer’ are more apt: A guy always two steps behind the principal but always ready to step up and fix whatever problem arose in daily political life. Need a special vegan lunch for Congressman Busybody, White House tour tickets for the Big Bad High volleyball team, or the personal phone number of the executive assistant to a heavy-duty lobbyist? I was your guy. Every leader needs a fixer. Like anyone else who works in D.C., I occasionally participated in a glam political moment – you know, that unique, epic event that would never ever be forgotten in D.C. history Until it was. *** The best part about government life was working for many men and women who were at the top of their game in the D.C. Swamp, one of the toughest arenas on the planet. Their success, from the vantage point of your humble correspondent, was attributable to four simple rules of life. “If you can’t measure it, it didn’t happen.” Every office I was in kept metrics on virtually every aspect of the principal’s week – how many meetings and events attended, X posts, interviews, committee votes, constituent letters, action items completed from memos?! Numbers, numbers, and always keeping score – and always the quest to improve. “Never lose it.” In a lifetime of political jobs, I may have heard a boss raise her or his voice half a dozen times, even during and after major-league setbacks. Self-control was their hallmark. One boss, a powerful House Committee chairman once confided to me, “I’m fine that 80 precent of my job is humoring these guys, no matter how crazy they get.” An equally valuable corollary skill: Humility. The ability of these individuals to admit to colleagues and staff when wrong on a particular issue. Which counterintuitively only upped their long-term credibility. “Something’s always gonna go south.” Always the need for a plan C. Every initiative during an upcoming day was scoured for what elements would interfere and how, if they occurred, they could be ameliorated. Hence, in the rare times when things did go south, there was always preparation in advance for getting to 80 percent of what was needed. “Good is not good enough.” Successful politicians and government leaders – and their staffs – never get complacent. If they do, they’re not long for the Swamp. Everyone is always hustling for the edge. A useful corollary learned from an NCO when I was in the Army: Always have your hand up. Volunteering is at the heart of the hustle, the cheerful willingness to take on the new and unknown and do whatever it takes. *** And that’s how it all started. On the second day of my first congressional tour the Member solicited volunteers “for a fun recess job that’ll get you out of the office.” It was flag duty and from that day onwards my government career could only go up. *****