The other day, I ran across an article on Babble entitled, The 20 Most Common Parenting Mistakes, According to a Family Psychologist. I can’t afford a family psychologist, so I checked it out in the hopes of getting some free tips.
Then I read it. And, as I often do with these kinds of articles, I had some comments.
One of the struggles of dealing with a newborn is never knowing what they’re thinking about.
Sure, when they cry it’s probably because they’re hungry or tired or have a full diaper or are sick of the baby talk or what you to turn the channel, but it’s impossible to ever know. (Of course, when your kids finally can tell you what they’re thinking, it’s usually either insulting or meaningless.)
I made a little pie chart to break down babies most common thoughts.
When we first got The Hammer home, we marveled at how quiet he was. That was a fun half hour!
Turns out he’s actually loud, especially when he hits the so-called “witching hour,” which is the technical term for that specific period of the day when your baby really wants you to know he’s pissed about this whole “not in the womb” thing and he blames YOU.
My five-year-old is more of a whiner, but really, what’s the difference? It’s all a bunch of high-pitched squealing. Even Mom and Buried is a little emotional lately, which is understandable. Her hormones must be going crazy, just a few weeks after giving birth and also with all the catching-up-on-drinking she’s gotta do!
Lately, I’m just surrounded by criers. So I decided to have some fun with it.
More power to our kids, but nothing makes a person hate snow more than being an adult. There are only so many times you can take your kids sledding and ice skating and snowman-building, especially when you have things to do!
No matter how outdoorsy you are, in the winter you’re sure to be spending more and more time indoors with a collection of five-hour-energy side-effects in tiny human form, slowly but surely exhausting every single entertainment option available in an effort to keep the kids occupied. And keep yourself from turning into Jack Nicholson in The Shining. It’s not easy.
And it’s only going to get worse for me, now that I have a newborn too.
This isn’t about dangerous toys. I honestly wouldn’t even know where to begin such a list. When I was a kid, if you wore a bike helmet you were King Dork of Nerd Mountain. Nowadays, you need a helmet just to ride the school bus or you’ll end up suing the NFL. The standards for safety have changed so drastically that I’ve pretty much stopped giving my kid anything that has corners. I’m not even joking: my son has never had a Saltine. NOTHING BUT RITZ.
Instead, this list is about the worst gifts for kids. Not all kids, like I said, I can’t speak to that. But the worst gifts to buy your own children. I don’t give a shit what my neighbors give their kids. At least not until my son sees whatever cool new toy Rohan-across-the-street’s parents bought him and starts waking me up in the middle of the night screaming for it.
I swear to god, last week I found my kid at his little desk with a stack of papers with “No ‘Jake and the Neverland Pirates’ Hideout Toy Makes Me a Dull Boy” scribbled all over them in crayon. He wrote “NAP RETEP” in red lipstick on the back of my bedroom door. It was fucking terrifying.
When did Christmas become so cutthroat?