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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The Curse of the Working Parent

The Curse of the Working Parent

I wasn’t the world’s biggest fan of being a stay-at-home dad and I’m not afraid to say it.

It just wasn’t for me. For one thing, when I had the gig I lived in a smaller, sleepier town. For another, my son was only two, and his personality was still just emerging; he wasn’t yet the super-whiny but also super-fun four-year-old that he is now (and that I hope he won’t be soon because I’m TIRED OF IT).

Most importantly? I like having a job. And I like working in an office. I enjoy interacting with other adults, and I need that time away from the house. Being a stay-at-home dad was BORING. By the time I got back to work, it was a relief.

But lately, I’ve been feeling a little regret. It’s the curse of the working parent.

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How to Act Like a Child at Work

How to Act Like a Child at Work

Children are little terminators.

To quote Kyle Reese, “They can’t be bargained with. They can’t be reasoned with. They don’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And they absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead.” The only difference between my son and Arnold Schwarzenegger in that movie is that my son’s speech is more intelligible. And that Arnold loses. My son never loses.

His commitment to being irrational is so absolute, it’s like living with Andy Kaufman. I honestly can’t tell where the act ends and the real person begins. Or if there even is an act. Or a real person. I’ve never been so uncertain of how to deal with someone in my life.

Which is why I might start acting like a child at work.

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