A few years ago, I wrote a post in which I declared that my son would never play organized football due to the health risks. When it ran on The Huffington Post this past fall, I got some angry comments.
So I was a little surprised when the people at the Esquire Network (check your local listings!) reached out and asked if I’d be interested in writing about the second season of their TV show about youth football in Texas, “Friday Night Tykes.”
I agreed, and have since viewed the first two episodes of the season (the third airs tonight at 9PM EST on Esquire Network). Has my opinion changed?
The short answer? Not one bit.
If you follow my Facebook page, this might be a bit redundant for you. But after two weeks of drinking and eating and drinking and drinking, I barely have the energy to keep my eyes open, let alone write a new post. So I’m milking this “year in review” thing one more time.
2014 was a good year for Dad and Buried. I moved back to Brooklyn after 18 lackluster months below the Mason-Dixon line (they do things differently down there), got a few sponsorship opportunities with which I annoyed half my readers, and increased my exposure by infuriating people who read the Huffington Post.
So to ease myself back into the swing of things, I’m kicking off 2014 with a list of my ten most popular blog posts of 2014.
I love coffee.
I don’t know how you can be a parent and not love coffee. The smell alone is Pavlovian, and a few cups a day are just plain necessary for survival! I also love both the taste and the smell of coconut. Like, a lot. No joke: I have seriously considered drinking Mom and Buried’s coconut-scented conditioner. But I didn’t want to die.
So here’s the problem with frank body’s otherwise highly effective frank coconut coffee scrub: I WANT TO EAT IT.
I used to live in Boston. I went to school there and loved it, so I stuck around for another 10 years or so. When I eventually left, I lost access to the city’s vibrant sports scene, and my ability to brainwash Detective Munch into rooting for some of my favorite teams.
Except not really, because this is 2014. It hasn’t exactly been hard to follow the Red Sox this century, no matter where you live, and it’s easy enough to find a way to watch your favorite NFL team, even if they play their games halfway across the country. But when your favorite college team isn’t exactly a national powerhouse, things can get a little dicey.
Luckily, we have the internet.
I am in the middle of yet another trying fantasy football season. Two of them, actually, since I am participating in two leagues, like some kind of masochist. It’s been 12 weeks of misery, punctuated by occasional spurts of short-lived happiness.
Just like raising kids!
Seriously, parenting and fantasy football aren’t all that different (here’s what a fantasy parenting draft might look like!) There’s a lot of work, you have to pay a lot of attention, and nobody wants to hear about any of it.
I know, you think I’m an idiot. So I made a list!
My son was born in the middle of September, so when his first Halloween came around, he was barely even a thing yet, let alone someone who might one day want to dress up as Thing. But that didn’t stop Mom and Buried from putting him in a little lion outfit and parading him around the neighborhood, to the delight of everyone because that shit is cute.
When his second Halloween came around, he went as a monkey. We initially tried a skeleton outfit but that did not go over well. To be honest, neither did the monkey, most of the time. But crying and screaming was kind of his thing back then. (Not that that’s changed much.) Last year was his third Halloween, and he was totally on board, chomping at the bit to be Jake the Neverland Pirate.
Finally, it was up to him to choose his costume. And it should always be from now on.
Parenting is the worst thing in the world and the worst part about it is how fast it goes by.
Such is the paradox every mom and dad must come to terms with as soon as their first child is born. The bad parts are plentiful, the good parts are transcendent, and everything is over before you know it. I bitch a lot about pretty much all of it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t also love it. Personally, if I can’t bitch about something, it might as well not even exist. Which makes every rant against the hassle of child-rearing just further evidence of how important it all is to me.
Which means this list of things I hate about parenting is actually kind of a love letter, if that helps you feel better.
The other day, during a particularly stressful endurance test at the dinner table, Mom and Buried chided me for getting so frustrated at Detective Munch’s eating (or lack thereof) habits. She told me that I needed to step back and realize that as hard as parenting can be, it’s pretty tough to be a three-year-old too.
My inadequacy as a father notwithstanding – although I would argue that no parent should be judged by their reaction to a toddler’s dinnertime hi-jinks – that’s some bullshit right there.
Over the weekend, professional golfer Rory McIlroy won the Open Championship. In the process he netted $1.66 million.
His father, meanwhile, scored big himself, having placed a bet in 2005 that his son would win the Open Championship by 2015. Daddy McIlroy collected (approximately) $171,000 merely for having confidence in his son’s golfing ability.
Which got me thinking…
What would I bet on my own son to accomplish within the next 10 years?
Many people don’t like giving advice, but not me. I don’t like giving directions (the only person who has a worse sense of direction than me is Mr. Magoo) but I love giving advice. Especially when it’s unsolicited. Which, unfortunately, it’s not. Because I asked you to ask me questions.
Despite having no training or authority or expertise in any arena aside from Movie Pong and The Kevin Bacon Game, I think I’m pretty good at the advice game. I’m a good listener and have given some friends some pretty good objective advice in the past, helpful, thoughtful advice that has (presumably) improved their relationships and (obviously) elevated my status in their lives.
But that’s not what I do here, with my “Parental Advisories”. No, here I play God with other people’s families.
Come and join me!