Shut Up, Parents

Shut Up, Parents

I love to complain. Especially about my kids.

Parenting is a never-ending hellscape of stress and headaches, and as such it offers plenty of fodder for whining. God knows I do a lot of it.

That said, even I am sick of some of the typical rants. It’s time for parents to shut up about some of this stuff.

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Does It Get Better?

Does It Get Better?

“Does it get better?”

That’s the question a follower asked me, in a lighthearted panic, after I posted a meme about unruly kids.

It’s just after my often-challenging eldest son’s 8th birthday, and this idea of things becoming easier is on my mind, so all (most) joking aside, I thought I’d try to answer. (But I hate being threatened by more experienced parents who warn me about the tween years or the teen years or the unemployed-and-living-in-my-basement years, so I’m going to try to answer without doing that.)

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Sorry, Annie, It’s Not Tomorrow Yet

Sorry, Annie, It’s Not Tomorrow Yet

Mom and Buried has worked in theater – musical theater – for a long time. She’d been angling to watch Annie on one of our movie nights for months, having depleted our stores of Pixar, Star Wars, and age-appropriate superhero flicks.

Last summer, thanks to “CBS Sunday Morning,” she finally had her chance!

One day, after seeing a segment about the play on the sleepy morning news show, my 6-year-old asked Mom and Buried if they could watch Annie.

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Parenthood Is a Cult

Parenthood Is a Cult

As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to join a cult.

Wait, no. I’ve always been fascinated by cults.

From Jonestown to Hale-Bopp, from the Manson Family to Scientology, the psychology of those kinds of groups – and the people who fall prey to them – has interested me.

But I never thought I’d join one myself. Then I had a kid.

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Mr. Invincible

Mr. Invincible

I’m not saying I’m a hero (I do replace the toilet paper a fair amount), but I do have some heroic qualities. All parents do.

Parenting requires superpowers. The same way emergencies case adrenaline to kick in and unlock heretofore unknown abilities when one is in danger, parenting reveals unknown reserves of strength, stamina, and, as my 7-year-old points out, invincibility.

He didn’t actually say that – he didn’t say anything, really, he just yelled “You’re the worst, I wish you weren’t my father!” but I survived that, and just a few minutes later, we were snuggling on the couch, watching a movie together.

So yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m invincible.

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