I guess I’m not the same as most dads. Or most dad-bloggers.
I’m a member of the Facebook Dadbloggers community (come and join us!), and through it I’ve met a lot of great dads, some with blogs big, some with blogs small, some with no blogs at all! (Seriously. There’s a guy.) I get along with all of them, give or take, but I’m not the most vocal member of the group.
I think that’s because my sensibility is a little bit different. For example, I enjoyed the following video.
Parents are the worst. Actually, politicians are probably the worst. And other people’s kids suck pretty bad too. And Nazis.
In fact, I changed my mind. I’m going to go out on a limb and say the Nazis are really the worst.
But parents still suck pretty bad. I knew it before I had a kid and it’s become even more apparent since I’ve joined their ranks.
Here are some of the reasons why.
Despite my incredible and potentially family-exploding advice, I am not a parenting expert.
But neither was Giorgio a musical prodigy when he discovered the sound of the future. Nor was penicillin discovered on purpose.
Sometimes you just get lucky.
Like I did when I discovered the key to successful parenting.
Here’s the thing, people: when I say I’m a parenting expert, I’m being sarcastic. If you’ve read my blog, you know what I think about the idea that anyone can be an “expert” parent. It’s hogwash. It’s all a gamble.
I should have known that my sarcasm might backfire, especially since it’s been happening my entire life. But here we are, with the seventh installment of my advice series, and this time I got a lot of questions. Serious questions. Difficult questions. And I have no choice but to give them a shot.
Just remember, I’m a clown. A buffoon. I’m no more qualified to tell you how to raise your kids than Britney Spears or Dr. Phil. So remember, while some of my responses will likely contain some good ideas and an occasional bit of insight, apply my advice at your own risk. I WRITE JOKES.
Got it? Good. Now let’s go ruin some lives.
I recently came across a blog post in which a mother of four (three boys, one girl) addresses The Teenage Girl and begs them to stop being skanks.
That’s not quite how she says it, but that’s clearly what she means. Actually, what she means is something more like, “Boys can’t control themselves, so you have to stop tempting them.” Which sounds like something a Republican congressman would say.
Apparently, this point of view is reasonable to many people, judging by all the “likes” and “shares” and positive comments her post is getting. People agree with her loving message to today’s young females.
I wish I agreed, since it’s a convenient way to get out of some difficult parenting.
Last year, there was a popular story about a couple who, before boarding a flight with their infant twins, created and distributed goodie bags to the other passengers.
Knowing the odds were high that their babies would make a ruckus, these parents got proactive and put together bags full of candy, ear-plugs and even a little note, in which they apologized for their kids’ potentially-forthcoming commotion. It was a clever strategy, and it inspired copycats, like a blogger friend of mine whose courteous, empathetic wife recently employed a similar gambit.
It just so happens that my wife and I are hopping on a plane later today, along with our excitable toddler. Inspired by the ingenuity and foresight of the people mentioned above, I’ve created a goodie bag of my own for our cabin-mates.
Let me know what you think!
It finally happened! A British woman gave birth!
I’ll never understand the hoopla about a famous person having a baby. This time around, it’s so extreme that it almost seems put on. Like we’re all starved for something stupid to focus on. Escapism at its limey-ist. Oh well. I have little to say on the topic, at least nothing I haven’t already said in the post below.
That’s right: in honor of the Artist Currently Known As Prince, I’ve resurrected a post I wrote a few months back. It originally ran when the Duchess was having intense morning sickness and reporters were camping out, hoping to catch a whiff. The frenzy didn’t make sense then and it doesn’t make sense now.
I do feel a bit bad for the Royal couple though. As I mentioned in the post below, having a baby is a pain in the ass any way you cut it. I don’t imagine having Al Roker’s face poking in your window makes things any easier. Someone on Twitter asked if I had any advice for William and Kate, and I said, “Yeah: MOVE.”
I guess I should’ve said “abdicate.”
Original Post: A Royal Pain
Children don’t understand decorum.
They don’t know that society has rules. That society demands you behave in a certain way in certain places. It’s called being civilized.
Children are not civilized. My two-year-old might as well be a rabid animal most of the time.
Getting him to behave the way one is supposed to behave is impossible.