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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Team Mom

Team Mom

Last night, after tucking Detective Munch into bed and heading towards the door, he called me back. He often does this, usually it’s to ask me for a drink of water or to turn up the lights a little or to give him another kiss and hug. This time, he had something else in mind.

He called me back to his bedside not for extra TLC or to delay going to sleep with some other random request. No, he called me back to scold me and to remind me to finish the items on Mom and Buried’s honey-do list.

I’m okay with him being on Team Mom. I just don’t like losing to them so much!

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Snack Time

Snack Time

If I could, I’d eat nothing but snacks.

Sure, I’d miss cheeseburgers and steak and Al Di La and sushi and all that, but give me a bag of chips – or even some raw broccoli – and a jar of french onion dip and I’m set for life.

This predilection for constant nibbling in between meals makes my role as a parent difficult. Because I am forced to stop my kids from doing the same. (Especially when it’s my snacks they’re stealing!)

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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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Spring Break Has Changed

Spring Break Has Changed

A few weeks ago, the Buried clan went on a road trip during Detective Munch’s spring break.

We spent a few days in Washington D.C. and then spent the latter half of the week, and Easter weekend, with Mom and Buried’s family in South Carolina. Then we drove the full fourteen hours back while The Hammer battled a fever and the world’s most prolific runny nose and we battled headaches, frustration, and traffic.

Spring break ain’t what it used to be…

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