The Chore of Common Core

The Chore of Common Core

When I get home from work, I’m pretty spent.

My days are usually filled with meetings and deadlines and fire drills and brainstorming and phone calls — capped off by a long commute on a crowded subway. So, by the time I get home, the last thing I want to do is something mentally taxing. I want a drink, a seat and some television.

But, alas, I have kids, so before I get to do those things, I have to deal with the fruit of my loins first. And that means common core.

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Venting Is Allowed

Venting Is Allowed

I recently wrote a post for Scary Mommy about a boy struggling with cancer. To raise awareness for the struggle sick children and their families face every day, his mother shared a heartbreaking photo of her son, bald, gaunt, and clearly in pain.

In the Facebook comments for the post, someone mentioned that the story reminded her that she should be grateful for what she has, instead of whining about what she doesn’t.

I get that, but I don’t think those two things are mutually exclusive. Venting is allowed. Especially for parents.

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Meninists Are The Worst

Meninists Are The Worst

There are a lot of things to be concerned about in 2017, but regardless of where you stand on Trump, Syria, climate change, fake news, or the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers reboot, there’s one thing we should tackle first:

Meninists.

Oh, you’re not familiar with the term? I apologize in advance for indoctrinating you into a world in which “meninism” is an actual thing.

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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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