I Have A Favorite Kid And So Do You

I Have A Favorite Kid And So Do You

I have a favorite kid.

So do you, whether you admit it or not.

Don’t worry, we don’t judge around here. So you have a favorite child, big whoop! We all do! It’s okay. In fact, like Robin Williams told Matt Damon, it’s not your fault. It’s your kids’ fault.

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It Takes a Village Idiot

It Takes a Village Idiot

Parenting is not always easy.

It takes a village to raise a child, they say, and while lately it seems that the villagers are more likely to come at you with pitchforks than to help you raise a barn, there are still benefits to being part of a broader community.

The internet makes it possible to judge with impunity, but it also allows us to witness and praise – or repudiate – countless different parenting techniques (and potentially adopt them as our own). Even better, from time to time, it provides both anonymous solidarity and gleeful Schadenfreude.

Especially if you follow me.

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Benefit of the Doubt

Benefit of the Doubt

Over the weekend, someone on my Facebook page told me that because I use the Cry It Out method, I’d broken my son’s trust in me, and another said I was cruel and heartless. These were people I’ve never met, who have never met my son, who have never been privy to my relationship with my son, who have no earthly idea what actually went down, how my son reacted, what the circumstances were, etc.

I don’t get offended very often, or by very much. But being told by complete strangers that I am damaging my relationship with one of my kids and that I don’t care about his well-being because they don’t agree with the way I sleep-train? That got me.

Judge me for crying it out. Judge me for letting my kids watch too much TV, for giving them too many toys, for co-sleeping or calling them assholes on my blog or vaccinating them or using my phone when I’m with them at the playground. I don’t care. Some of that is probably valid.

But don’t question my love for my son(s!).
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You’re a Good Parent

You’re a Good Parent

I don’t know you. And I don’t know your kids.

I have no idea what they’re like, how they act in public, at restaurants, in movie theaters. I don’t know if they have good manners, if they curse, if they listen to you more than they don’t, if they eat their dinners without argument and clean their rooms when asked.

I’ve never met you and probably never will. I couldn’t pick you out in a lineup. (I hope you’re not in any line-ups.) I don’t know if you’re quick to yell, or if you’re lazy, or if you’re neglectful.

But that doesn’t matter. I know you’re a good parent.

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The Worst Baby Names Ever!

The Worst Baby Names Ever!

There’s nothing parents enjoy more than judging other parents.

Don’t believe me? Go post a picture of your toddler in his car seat and see how long it takes for someone to question the way he’s strapped in.

Nobody knows better for your child than some other child’s mom or dad and nobody is quicker to let you know.

Especially when it comes to names.

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