I Won’t Apologize For Flying With Kids

I Won’t Apologize For Flying With Kids

Last year, there was a popular story about a couple who, before boarding a flight with their infant twins, created and distributed goody bags to the other passengers.

Knowing the odds were high that their babies would make a ruckus, these parents got proactive and put together bags full of candy, ear-plugs, and even a little note in which they apologized for their kids’ potentially-forthcoming commotion. It was a clever strategy, and it inspired copycats, like a blogger friend of mine whose courteous, empathetic wife recently employed a similar gambit.

It just so happens that my wife and I are hopping on a plane later today, along with our excitable toddler. Inspired by the ingenuity and foresight of the people mentioned above, I’ve created a goody bag of my own for our cabin-mates, to thank them for not getting too mad at me for flying with kids.

Let me know what you think!

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Trump’s Locker Room Talk

Trump’s Locker Room Talk

(This post originally ran on Scary Mommy, but as Trump’s habit of making sexist and misogynistic remarks continues to make news, most recently with last week’s comments to the French first lady, I thought I’d re-run it here.)

As a 40-year-old man, I’ve been in my share of locker rooms.

In those rare instances when I’m not minding my own business and/or shielding my eyes from the sight of the old men who inexplicably enjoy hanging around buck naked in the middle of midtown Manhattan gyms, I’ve had plenty of conversations with other men, both friends and strangers.

I’ve never discussed, let alone bragged about, a history and/or any methods of sexual assault. Not in a locker room, not anywhere.

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Don’t Make Me Your Cautionary Tale

Don’t Make Me Your Cautionary Tale

I don’t care what people think of my parenting.

Let me clarify: I don’t care what people who aren’t in my family think of my parenting.

I appreciate everyone who reads my stuff, even the humorless prigs who think I’m the Worst Father On Earth because I make jokes online, but I am well aware that none of you see the full picture of my parenting. Your judgment, positive and negative, is both incomplete and invalid. You see what I want you to see.

That said, there’s one reaction I can’t stomach. And it’s not the one you think.

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Addicted To Co-Sleeping

Addicted To Co-Sleeping

The other night, Detective Munch came to our room at about 1:30 AM, woke Mom and Buried and me up, and told us he couldn’t sleep. Actually, what he said was that he’d been “awake since 7” and had been lying in bed with his eyes wide open the entire time.

This was blatantly false on several levels (he didn’t even go to bed until 8!), the latest in a long line of excuses and/or lies he uses to try to get into our bed.

My son is addicted to co-sleeping, so this happens a few times a week. I don’t always handle it well.

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This Is Your Parenting On Drugs

This Is Your Parenting On Drugs

There are a lot of reasons a parent might want to lighten their load with a little help from their friends, whether said friends be alcohol, marijuana, Xanax, or boarding school. You have kids. You get it. Sometimes you need to relieve some stress. Parenting on drugs is tempting, to say the least.

I haven’t sent my kids away (yet), and I’ve never been much of a pill guy (there but for the grace of God and all). So these days I mostly drink. Kids have a tendency to make that necessary. You’re on Facebook. You get it.

There was a time — way back in college — when I might have done a little more than drink. Lately, now that the stigma is gone and the criminality is going away as well, I’m wondering if it might be time to explore a return to Honalee with everyone’s favorite magic dragon.

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