The No-Can-Do Kid

The No-Can-Do Kid

Usually when I watch my son stumble around, I’m amazed at how little he can do. I mean, yeah, he’s only five-years-old, but it’s incredible to see all the basic, rudimentary human activities that he is unable to complete, or even truly comprehend.

I love my son, and lately his behavior has (slightly) improved and he’s being (slightly) less of an asshole so I’m (slightly) more inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, in many cases, it’s not his no-can-do attitude so much as his no-can-do age.

With that in mind, I’ve tried to change my perspective and look at his deficiencies – like the inability to do two things at once, or to not get food in his hair, or to take a shower – as adorable and charming.

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1 in One Hundred Million

1 in One Hundred Million

Everybody loves teachers. I mean, not their students, but, ya know. “Everybody” loves teachers!

Teachers are a big part of our lives for a long time, for better or worse, and as a most of us end up loving one or two of them. Sure, we may end up hating all the rest, but by the time we are adults, and finally, truly realize how tough the job actually is, we can’t help but respect them. So when I was given the opportunity to write something about them for the Kronos American Worker Campaign, I jumped at it.

Except when I was watching the “1 in one hundred million” video series, it was a profile about a different job that jumped out at me.

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The Guide to Hungover Parenting

The Guide to Hungover Parenting

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.

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Over-planned Parenthood

Over-planned Parenthood

My son’s impending entry into Kindergarten is causing a whole host of problems in my life. (Not the least of which will be his eventual ability to read the channel guide as I try to quickly scroll past the names of his garbage programs.)

It’s still six months away and yet it’s already negatively impacting my life. There are all sorts of schedules, and schedules mean planning, and I don’t like planning. I’m supposed to know what I’m doing six months in advance? I don’t even know what I did two days ago, and that was two days! Ago! (I went on a bar crawl, so what did you expect? I’m surprised I’m awake right now.)

But I’m a parent. Of a soon-to-be kindergartener. Planning has become an unavoidable part of my life. I mean, it’s even part of “planning” an escape.

It’s like I’m being mocked.

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