It’s not always easy to make exercise a part of your life, especially as you get older and other things take priority, like drinking, and not exercising.
But having kids is no excuse. Not because it’s easy to squeeze in the gym when you have parental duties, but because we parents actually get a ton of exercise without even needing a gym membership. Especially when our kids our younger.
It turns out that a lot of the stuff I would do at the gym, I’m already doing at home. Take a look at my parental exercise equivalency chart to find out if you are too.
Last night, we had our neighbors over for a few drinks. Somewhere between my third and fourth beer, I forgot that I have a kid and a job and am thirty-eight, so I had three or four more beers. Now I want to die.
Thankfully, today is Friday, so I’m at work instead of sitting at home trying to occupy a four-year-old who wants me to pretend to be a firetruck-slash-dinosaur and get on my knees and chase him around the house all while holding my head and trying not to throw up.
Hungover parenting is not a lot of fun.
My son has a Band-Aid fetish. (Don’t get weird; he’s four.)
The dude loves wearing Band-Aids. For any reason. For no reason. FOR ALL REASONS.
(It is weird, just not in that way, pervert.)
Here are the top five “reasons” he’ll ask for a Band-Aid:
- Actual bleeding
- There’s a chance at some point he may bleed sometime later on maybe?
- Batman is on them
I wrote a piece about Detective Munch’s obsession with Band-Aids – they’re nothing but glorified stickers! – for Lifetime Moms, and I wouldn’t be even the littlest bit upset if you were to follow the link below and read it. I promise. I wouldn’t even be mad if you shared it! Seriously. It’s not your fault.
I FORGIVE YOU.
Over the weekend, “Saturday Night Live” ran a parody of the earnest and sentimental “my kid is joining the military!” commercials. Only instead of the man’s daughter joining the army, she joined ISIS. The target of the bit, to these eyes, was the commercials themselves, not the war and not even ISIS, but some people got upset.
Similarly, controversy erupted over this winter’s American Sniper, a Best Picture nominee and huge box office hit. Some thought the film fudged the facts, others felt it was pro-war propaganda that removed any shades of gray from the discussion. Of course, anyone who dared criticized the movie – including funnyman Seth Rogen – was basically accused of treason, despite the fact that there is no correlation between criticizing a film and criticizing the troops or the military.
War is a highly politicized topic, especially a war as amorphous and infinite as the one in which we’re currently embroiled. Which probably makes this post a bad idea.
Being a parent is hard.
You start from scratch every day and run until you’re empty, hoping that you’ve made a dent, that you did something right, that one of your lessons actually sticks. One of the intentional ones.
But you won’t know for a while. Not for years, not truly. And the lack of feedback, direct or otherwise, makes the job even harder. It’s impossible to know how well you’re doing and thus it’s very easy to succumb to self-doubt.
This is why judgment from other parents is so obnoxious; it’s redundant. Every decent parent already constantly questions their own parenting.