We’ve moved! Mostly.
Right now, we are in limbo at my parents in CT while I commute to Manhattan during the week and hunt for a Brooklyn apartment on the weekend. (Yup, from BK to NC and back again.) It’s stressful and exhausting and it generally sucks, for everyone except my son. He gets to spend all day with Grandma, gorging on juice boxes and cracker parties and chocolate chip cookies. He’s like a pig in shit. But he’s wiping my parents out.
To offer them a reprieve, sometimes Detective Munch comes down to NYC too. And if you thought apartment hunting in NYC was hard, try doing it with a 3yo by your side.
Over the weekend, I read a couple of parenting articles in The New York Times.
It was some intense reading full of hardcore facts and figures and suggestions and techniques, and I came away from it thinking that I have no idea what I’m doing as a parent. Which is totally cool, because I already knew that. It helped to discover that, judging by the articles, no one else knows what they’re doing either.
But thank God I don’t believe in parenting experts because even if I did, I have no idea how I’d be expected to even remember all the so-called “best” techniques, let alone have the wherewithal and discipline to implement them.
Everyone knows that living with a toddler isn’t all fun and games. In fact, I’ve spent a fair amount of time whining about the fact that it’s NO fun and games.
Today I’m going to let you in on a little secret: it’s SOME fun and games.
A lot of it is stressful and loud and crowded and dirty, but the good parts make it all worth it. So, no: living with a toddler is NOT like being in prison (except when it is). It’s actually more like going to an amusement park.
Allow me to explain…
As I suggested last week, every parent has secrets. Unfortunately, not every parent has a blog via which they can express their innermost feelings under sarcastic cover (I swear!) and therefore escape the wrath of their spouse and children and the authorities.
Understanding this, I have created a “Buried Secrets” forum, this well of souls, where any parent who feels the need to can get something off their chest without fear of judgment (you know how we feel about that) or embarrassment or the NSA.
Just kidding, I can’t hide from them! Thankfully they already know all of our secrets anyway.
Everyone has secrets, including parents. Especially parents!
Part of being a good parent is teaching your children right from wrong. In order to do that, they have to believe that you occupy the moral high ground and that you have the authority to judge what is right and what is wrong. You can do this in two ways: you can explain that you learned the difference over a lifetime of your own experimentation and your own failures and your own mistakes – which will backfire until your kid is at least 25 and finally understands just enough about life that he realizes the truth behind that; OR, you can lie. Mostly by omission.
The more your kids know about you, the harder your job will be. Trust me. I’m a regular Don Draper at home; my son has no idea what my real name is and I smoke like a chimney.
Here’s a list of some of the secrets that I keep from my son, and will continue to keep, at least until he’s old enough to hear them over a few beers.
Years ago, before I had a blog, I wrote for an online magazine called Intrepid Media. It had a small but dedicated following, and my style was much the same as it is now: bitter, sarcastic, something of a put-on, just less-developed and almost completely non-child related. I didn’t have a kid yet, so the topics were more varied, if you think writing about being irrationally angry about many different things qualifies as variety.
I thought I’d occasionally re-post an article from the now defunct magazine. Why? I’m not sure. They are old – I wrote a column a month for about 10 years, before stopping in early 2011 (give-or-take one or two more) – and dated and re-reading them makes me cringe, but whatever, sometimes you need to re-post old stuff just fill out a week.
This one seems appropriate for several reasons, which may or may not become apparent when you finish reading it. Enjoy! Or don’t enjoy, because either way, without Intrepid Media and the posts that will be featured in this new “series,” I would never have met Mom and Buried. And Detective Munch would not exist. The writing is just gravy.
And so, the first Pre-Natal post.
I’ve never run a guest post before.
It’s primarily because most of the people who want to write them are PR flunkies looking to promote a product and homey don’t play that. Also because there aren’t all that many people I’d be comfortable having contribute to my site. I’m proud of the voice I have/am-trying-to establish here, and I like to think it’s unique among bloggers, and unique among parent bloggers in particular. Tell me I’m wrong in the comments!
But today I’m going to run my first guest post, for three reasons:
1) I’m moving today and tomorrow, and have no time to write anything.
2) Mom and Buried has plans to contribute something soon – she wanted to be first but, alas, she’s moving too – and I want to get everyone ready for the occasional new voice.
3) This guest poster is funny, and unlike the aforementioned PR flunkies, his sensibilities are in line with mine. Also he designed my logo so I owe him.
So, without further ado, please read and enjoy my talented, hilarious cartoonist friend The Glad Stork’s (follow him on Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr!) take on parenting, perspective, and Pound Town.
But be prepared: Mom and Buried is coming.
And she’s bringing hell with her.