11 Sep

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 2 comments

Concession Stand

Mom and Buried and I spent the weekend enjoying a local music festival. We knew from the start that Detective Munch wouldn’t be accompanying us to the many night-time shows, but – because we wanted him to experience some live music, which he loves – we took some of the daytime events.

On Saturday, we went to the less interesting (read: bluegrass) bands that were playing outside somewhere, rather than inside some dank dive bar my son couldn’t get into. It worked out okay; the kid got to dance and interact with dogs and strangers and we got to have a beer or two while doing our best to prevent our son from getting bit by disgruntled dogs and strangers.

It’s called compromise, and it’s part of being a parent. But on the eve of his third birthday, it’s time for my kid to start holding up his end of the bargain.

Hard Days’ Nights

Today is my birthday. I know; I don’t care either.

I’m not going to whine about how old I am or anything. Age ain’t nothing but a mile marker on the highway to eternal nothingness, am I right? And truth be told, I don’t feel that different than I did at 27. Except for this three-foot-tall growth that’s attached to my leg, sucking all the energy out of me.

That energy would’ve come in handy over the weekend, when I tried to live like I still was 27 by attending a three-day music fest.

Toddlers Are Assholes

My kid has been a real punk lately.

When your kids are at their most trying, it can make even the most seasoned parent question themselves. I say don’t. Especially if you’re parenting a toddler.

Toddlers are assholes and there’s not much you can do about it. Don’t let them bring you down.

Read more about Toddlers Are Assholes …

27 Jun

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 2 comments

Scared Tactics

When you’re a kid, you just don’t understand.

You’re just doing your thing, trying something new, exploring something new, eyes on the prize, when all of a sudden Daddy appears out of nowhere, grabs you, and starts yelling in your face.

You’re scared. But what your puny, inexperienced brain doesn’t realize is, that despite all appearances, Daddy is even more scared than you.

Without 2

You may have noticed that the blog has been a tad quiet of late, and that’s because the family has been doing a little traveling.

We drove up north. We drove because we wanted to stay flexible, schedule-wise, and because airlines inexplicably charge full-price once your kid turns two-years-old so he can have a seat. But I’d gladly let him sit on my lap for two hours. Deal with occasionally getting kicked, fatso next to me!

The driving made the travel longer, made the use of the computer impossible (hence reduced blog posts), and made me question why I didn’t put my son in a kennel because he’s the one child on earth who doesn’t sleep in the car and man does he get annoying!

But a funny thing happened near the end of the trip.

Dad and Buried

Category: Drinking

Concession Stand

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Hard Days’ Nights

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Toddlers Are Assholes

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Scared Tactics

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Without 2

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