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Archive | December, 2011

Dear God, What Have We Done? – Part 2 (To Us)

29 Dec evil elmo

When I was a kid, whenever I had a nightmare my parents would tell me to think about Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, since they are associated with happiness and fun. Unfortunately, I took that advice, and for a few years was beset by terrifying nightmares wherein a homicidal Santa or a psychopathic Easter Bunny attempted to murder me.

I no longer fear Santa, but am still occasionally faced with an instance where something/someone that is usually considered friendly, or, at worst, utterly innocuous, fills me with dread.

This Christmas, that something/someone is Elmo. (see Part 1 here.)

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Dear God, What Have We Done? – Part 1 (To Him)

27 Dec photo by Cathy Hurley

So this weekend we celebrated our son’s “second” Christmas, but since, if memory serves, he spent his actual first Christmas crying and pooping and sleeping with nary any clue of what all the fuss was about, this was more like his real actual first Christmas. And being that he’s only 15 months old, we weren’t even sure this one would count.

But we were wrong.

The kid took to Christmas like Tim Tebow takes to scruff, or Tim Tebow takes to evangelism, or Tim Tebow takes to not being able to play quarterback. (See Part 2 here.)

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Miracle on 34th Street

20 Dec bad-santa-billy-bob-thornton-and-brett-kelly1

Last week, my wife and I took our pride and joy (by which I mean our new iPhone 4S) and also our young son to visit Santa Claus at the Macy’s in Herald Square.

As residents of NYC it was a patently idiotic thing to do, as was visiting Rockefeller Center the week before; we’re not tourists, why would we subject ourselves to acting like them? The crush of people around 30 Rock was insane, and here I was trying to navigate a stroller through this mess of yokels, all of them hoping for a glimpse of Hoda or Tina Fey or the Snoopy balloon, all of them staring wide-eyed at the hot dog vendors and the skyscrapers, all of them losing their minds over a tree that wasn’t even lit in the middle of the day. Or maybe it was. I stood right next to it and didn’t even hazard a glance because who cares? I have one in my living room.

And yet last week we did it again. This time, we somehow made it through unscathed. It really was a miracle.

And that was what sucked about it.

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A Sign of Things to Come?

15 Dec spoiled brats

So Jimmy Kimmel created a bit for his show in which he asked parents to give their kids terrible Christmas presents and then film the results. He recently aired the results (video below). And they are disturbing…

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He Learned It By Watching Me?

13 Dec psa-200x170

Watching a child grow and develop is an amazing thing, a true privilege as a parent. It allows even the most cynical, jaded and beaten-down of us to experience anew the simple joys of youth. It gives us a chance to revisit a sacred time of sublime innocence and joy, when the world wasn’t so complicated and shaded in gray. It is a sacred opportunity and it should be cherished.

Except when it sucks.

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Woe, Christmas Tree

9 Dec cat in tree

Back when my wife and I had a cat (never again, thanks to my son!), installing the yearly Christmas tree could be quite problematic. There are a lot of ways a cat can wreak havoc on a tree, and a lot of ways a tree might kill a cat – all of which would be the cat’s fault, but still.

With Rilo running around, we had to take a lot of precautions. If there were ornaments we were particularly sentimental about, we had to make sure they were placed high enough on the tree to be out of the cat’s reach. If we didn’t want the tree to die prematurely, we had to water it regularly, and if wanted to make sure the tree stayed watered – while also avoiding giving our vet an unexpectedly hefty Christmas gift – we had to make sure Rilo did not drink said water.

We don’t have a cat anymore; we traded up for a son. And yet, the same exact rules apply. Though it would be kinda messed up if we took our son to the vet.

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Allergies: Yet Another Way My Son is Ruining My Life

7 Dec no-cat

Ever see that Brady Bunch episode where it seemed that Jan might be allergic to Mr. Brady? They actually considered a divorce! That actually happened. Just amazing television. What’s next, a series about a diminutive black child who lives with rich white people in a mansion?

Anyway, my wife took my son to the allergist yesterday and guess what happened? Not what happened in The Brady Bunch.

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The Anti-Christmas List: Five Gifts My Son Won’t Be Getting

2 Dec Santa-LumpOfCoal1

Earlier this week I wrote about the five baby-related items that made our first year as parents a little more bearable. These were all items in which our son had little say; because they were for us, not for him.

But now, as we get closer to Christmas, and our son gets closer to self-awareness, we have to take begin taking his “interests” into consideration.

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