I live in Brooklyn but I grew up in the suburbs. Pete grew up in London, for some reason. On the latest episode of the podcast, we talk about the different challenges of parenting in each location. It’s a City vs. Burbs Thunderdome! One place enters, one place leaves! I never saw myself raising myRead more about City vs. Suburbs[…]
My oldest son is 8 years old, smart as a whip, sensitive like his mom and a smart-ass like his dad. He’s imaginative and excitable, he loves to read and play video games, and he hates sports.
He also has trouble focusing and sitting still, and he often has out-sized emotional reactions to minor incidents.
After years of being frustrated by what I considered his immaturity and spoiled entitlement, I now know that much of his most challenging behavior is a manifestation of his ADHD.
My instinct is to joke about it. To make fun of the whole thing, to poke fun at the people who fall for it, to bemoan the dumb victims and their bad parents.
But he whole thing is so twisted it makes my stomach churn. These are little kids.
No matter how desperately I wish it were funny, the Momo Challenge isn’t a joke. Real or not, the prospect is terrifying.
Parenting is hard.
Everyone knows this. Parents know, the child-free know, even kids know. They don’t care, but they know.
Caring for and raising and protecting and molding and teaching another human being, from scratch, is mentally taxing, physically exhausting, expensive, boring, and stressful. Even if you think it’s the greatest thing in the world, you can’t deny how challenging it is.
So why do we lie about it?
Last fall, in the aftermath of the most recent “deadliest shooting in U.S. history,” this time in Las Vegas, I Got Mad Online. Upset, angry, and frustrated at what
happened keeps happening, I posted a variety of tweets, links, and images to social media.
In response to one such item – the Instagram image of an old tweet (meta!) that reads “NRA = No Rational Argument” – someone commented, “DadandBuried- Not a Real American.”