Dads Have a “Mental Load” Too

Dads Have a “Mental Load” Too

Over the summer, Meredith Ethington of Perfection Pending shared a list of the anxieties that plague her – and moms in general – every day, like having enough food in the house, cleaning messes, making it to appointments on time, etc. I stumbled across “Thoughts Moms Have After A Long Day of Work” again recently, and have some thoughts of my own.

The punch line to her post is that dads aren’t troubled by such things, and only think about naps. It’s all in good fun -in the comments she included a disclaimer that her husband is great and that the list was merely meant to showcase “the mental load” women have that men often don’t – but she’s not alone.

The idea that moms are the only ones who deal with this kind of anxiety is pretty common. I beg to differ.

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Is it Wrong To Call Your Kids ‘Buddy’?

Is it Wrong To Call Your Kids ‘Buddy’?

I call my kids all sorts of things.

For starters, they have the generic names everyone calls their kids: little guy, munchkin, monkey, etc. Mom and Buried uses various terms of affection, like pumpkin and cutie-pie and goofer. I often use weird names like “munch machine” and “cracker town” that I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain (I also don’t have an actual explanation).

Then there are their blog nicknames (which I rarely use anywhere but online), along with various terms of aggravation (which I never use to their faces), like jerk, and dick, and asshole.

People occasionally get angry at me for using those words, which is understandable. Getting angry about people who call their kid “buddy” is decidedly less so…

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Foolproof Food

Foolproof Food

Disclosure: I have partnered with Life of Dad and Barilla for this promotion. All words, opinions, and praise for how good the recipe is belong to me.

Much more embarrassing disclosure: I can’t cook.

But my kids need to eat, and take-out gets expensive. During back to school season, our days get pretty hectic, and sometimes when Mom and Buried is prepping school lunches or helping with homework, I get dinner duty. As I said, I’m no chef, so I need something simple and quick that I can’t screw up.

Unfortunately, my wife informed me long ago that two packets of Ramen noodles is not an acceptable meal option for children. But pasta is!

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The Parenting Perks of New York City

The Parenting Perks of New York City

This morning, my wife texted me in a panic because she couldn’t find her membership card to the Staten Island Children’s Museum she wanted to visit with our kids.

Later, she texted me a photo of my 7-month-old at a museum, putting some filth-ridden toy in his mouth, the goofy idiot. I texted back, both to insult my son for being a goofy idiot and to ask at which museum she’d ended up, because I knew she’d never found her membership card.

I also knew that didn’t matter. Because we live in New York City.

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