My Mom Is Too Nice For Words

My Mom Is Too Nice For Words

I’ve written about my father before, but I’ve never really written about my mom. Not because there’s nothing to say, but because there’s too much to say. It’s scary to write about her! How can I do my mom justice? How can anyone?

I don’t know that I’d call myself a “mama’s boy” because I’m too much of a jerk for that – and every time I go home I revert to being a teenager again, which means I’m even less nice to everyone than normal, no matter how long I was in your womb! – but moms are pretty special, and it’s hard to capture every reason why. In the case of my mom, it’s particularly hard, because she’s so nice.

It’s hard to praise niceness. Niceness can seem bland. But there’s nothing bland about my mom.

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Positive Traits My Kids Got From Me

Positive Traits My Kids Got From Me

This blog isn’t exactly known for its positivity.

If I’m not (facetiously) trashing my kids, I’m (facetiously) trashing myself, or I’m (facetiously) trashing other parents. What can I say, trashing things is fun!

To paraphrase Shakespeare, every once in a while, I come not to bury, but to praise. Today, I’m looking on the bright side, and sharing some of the positive traits I’ve passed down to my two sons.

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Parenting Regrets

Parenting Regrets

I still remember the night I got a call from my oldest friend and he told me his wife was pregnant. I’ve known this dude since the second grade (Turkey Hill Elementary School Class of ’86 represent!) and he was the first friend of mine to become a parent. It was a big deal.

I was young at the time, and drunk at the time (and maybe other things at the time?) and I had some strong suggestions for how he should raise his child. Living the single life in Southie, having kids of my own was still a long way off for me, but that didn’t matter. I had OPINIONS.

Even just thinking about it makes me hate myself. I knew nothing. More than 12 years later, I still know nothing. Nothing except the stuff I wish I hadn’t done.

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Treat Yo Self

Treat Yo Self

Children are expensive.

And not just like, “Wow, I didn’t expect it to cost that much!” expensive, more like, “Wow, the cost of this item is really cramping my style, I should probably return it!” expensive, and maybe even “I bet if I sold this I’d make a fortune!” expensive.

They’re the kind of expensive that makes you question your life choices. Parents need some guilt-free spending to offset our crushed dreams.

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My Baby Fell Off the Bed and I Bet Yours Did Too

My Baby Fell Off the Bed and I Bet Yours Did Too

When my first kid was 9 months old, we went to Ireland.

We were dreading the long flight. It went fine. We were dreading the long drives around the countryside. They went fine. What we weren’t dreading was the hotel room we were staying in, or the king-sized bed we’d be sleeping in.

Little did we know that those were exactly what we should have been dreading.

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