Explaining Multiple Sclerosis to My Kids

Explaining Multiple Sclerosis to My Kids

I could hear them talking in the other room.

My wife’s voice was soft, nearly whispering. My son’s voice, on those rare occasions when he interjected, was uncharacteristically tentative, uncertain and wary. I stopped listening. I knew what was being discussed.

My wife has multiple sclerosis. And she was explaining it to him.

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Swearing and Other Bad Parenting Habits

Swearing and Other Bad Parenting Habits

I swear in front of my kids – but not as much as Mom and Buried does! And I use too much sarcasm in front of my kids. And my cynical personality rubs off on my kids. Passing your worst habits and traits down to your children is one of the real downsides to thisRead more about Swearing and Other Bad Parenting Habits[…]

My Son Has ADHD and It’s a Relief

My Son Has ADHD and It’s a Relief

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.

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Fear and Loathing and the Momo Challenge

Fear and Loathing and the Momo Challenge

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.

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Door Stoppers and School Shootings

Door Stoppers and School Shootings

Last spring, Mom and Buried found an unopened package of rubber door stoppers on the street.

In my neighborhood, people put stuff they don’t want on their front curb, and it’s understood that it’s all up for grabs until the garbage man comes. Sometimes it’s old books and DVDs, sometimes it’s random bits of clothing, sometimes it’s a gently-used AC unit or a TV or a bookshelf.

Door stoppers are not something I would have even looked twice at, and needing them had never really occurred to Mom and Buried either. But she grabbed the package anyway.

Because the door stoppers aren’t for us. They’re for our brand-new third grader.

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