Mother’s Day Made Easy With DIYZ

Mother’s Day Made Easy With DIYZ

Disclosure: This post is in collaboration with DIYZ. All opinions of apps and companies that help me complete DIY projects are my own.

When we moved to Raleigh in 2012, we bought a dining room table which came with a bench. But, the only bench the store had available was the display model. It wasn’t without some wear and tear, but we needed it. Obviously, a mere year and a half later, when we got back to Brooklyn, it broke.

The wood splintered on one of the legs and it was no longer stable enough to use. It seemed fixable, at least for someone who can fix things (read: not me), so we kept it in storage for when Mom and Buried got remarried.

To her chagrin, we’re still together, and the bench is still broken.

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Parenting Done Right

Parenting Done Right

Recently, I wrote about some of the positive things my son has inherited from me, mostly by dint of genetics and osmosis. Which is to say accidentally. Give or take The Beatles.

I don’t like to brag, which is why I’m going to do it again today! Only this time there’s nothing accidental about the things I’m going to discuss. Because these aren’t traits my son was handed down, or music I’ve indoctrinated him into. These are things I’ve done right as a parent, on purpose!

Because I am the greatest parent alive!

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The Perks of a Bigger Age Gap

The Perks of a Bigger Age Gap

I always wanted two kids.

And I always wanted them to be close in age — no more than two or three years — so they could grow up together and be friends. After I had my first son, my mind didn’t change, but my circumstances did. Having another kid became impossible for a few years, and the possibility of a two- or three-year age gap evaporated.

We ended up with a five-year gap. And so far, so good.

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The Blame Game

The Blame Game

In the six short years of his life, my son has discovered many new things.

From the taste of an iPhone to the joy of farting and from the delightful sound a messy belly-based raspberry makes to the ear-piercing “welp!” a knee to Daddy’s crotch can elicit, the early years of a child’s life are full of amazing new discoveries. Some of which are innocent and fun, others of which portend a forthcoming decade-plus of agita and frustration for parents.

Like Detective Munch’s discovery and immediate appropriation of lying. And, thanks to his little brother, a newfound awareness of blame.

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Have I Already Ruined My Kids?

Have I Already Ruined My Kids?

If you’ve read this blog before, you’re probably no stranger to my anxiety as a parent. If you are a parent, you’re probably no stranger to it either. Parenting makes paranoids out of all of us.

In the past I’ve written about the general stresses of the gig, and I’ve occasionally focused on my fear over my own shortcomings, and how they might affect my kids. lately, I’ve been less concerned about how my parenting might eventually ruin my children, and more worried that it already has.

Have I already ruined my kids?

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