Baby Item Wish List

Baby Item Wish List

My wife’s friends are throwing her a sprinkle, which is both the name of a smaller, not-your-first-kid baby shower and a word I will spend the rest of my life trying to avoid saying.

As one does when generous friends plan to ease the stress and expense of preparing for a major life-changing event, my wife has started a registry. I have not seen this registry, and I may never see it. I may even be fabricating the fact that she even started one. I haven’t been paying attention.

Regardless, I decided to write a baby item wish list of things I think we need for baby #2, some of which are obvious, some of which are outlandish, and a few of which don’t actually exist.

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Empty Parenting Threats

Empty Parenting Threats

When it comes to getting your kids to do something they don’t want to do, there are basically three tactics you can employ: bribery, threats, and just giving up and doing it for them.

Doing it for them is obviously not the way to go. Detective Munch is lazy enough as it is; if I were to start waiting on him hand and foot (or waiting on him even more, which I guess would make it waiting on him hands and feet? COMEDY GOLD!), he’d probably end up with bed sores.

As most parents already know, bribery is a double-edged sword. It works, but you’re gonna pay for it down the line when the kid refuses to get out of bed without the promise of a new toy or some TV time, and eventually you’re buying him a new car just to get him to go to college.

Which leaves us with threats.

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Categorically Opposed

Categorically Opposed

Recently, Target announced that they’d be doing away with gender-categorizations in their children’s sections. This made a lot of people happy and a lot of people angry.

I am torn between being baffled by the anger and totally understanding it. Not because I agree with it (most of the angry people seem to think Target has a nefarious agenda, which: CUCKOO!) but because I get where those people are coming from, at least on one level: human beings love labels.

Labels are comforting. Nothing scares us like stuff we don’t understand, and labels help us understand things.

My son is white. He is male. He is an American. He may be straight or gay, he may be religious or not, he may be liberal or conservative. But if I have my way, he’ll be none of those things.

He’ll just be a human being, like everyone else.

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Giveaway: Allergy Relief from Venta Airwashers

Giveaway: Allergy Relief from Venta Airwashers

Sometimes you just get lucky.

In my ongoing attempt to become the primary destination for parents who want to talk shit about their children, I am occasionally afforded some fun opportunities from brands who have a sense of humor or who haven’t actually read my blog. I got to participate in a photo shoot with Dove Men+ Care, I’ve written about some cool products, I’ve even been on a podcast or two. (Not lately though, AHEM!)

Every now and again, someone will reach out with an offer that seems to have little connection to my blog or even my life, like when a company that makes air purifiers asked me if I’d like to try one of their products.

You wouldn’t think such a thing was necessarily in line with my content, and normally it wouldn’t be. But as “luck” would have it, Detective Munch had just gotten some bad news from the allergist…

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[LINK] My Son, Road House, and Band-Aids

[LINK] My Son, Road House, and Band-Aids

My son has a Band-Aid fetish. (Don’t get weird; he’s four.) The dude loves wearing Band-Aids. For any reason. For no reason. FOR ALL REASONS. (It is weird, just not in that way, pervert.) Here are the top five “reasons” he’ll ask for a Band-Aid: Because Boo-boo! Actual bleeding There’s a chance at some pointRead more about [LINK] My Son, Road House, and Band-Aids[…]

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