19 Oct

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline No comments

Teach Impediment

The reality of being a dad has a way of completely upending your pre-parent expectations.

A few months ago, I wrote about looking forward to the “Rose Is Rose” portion of toddlerhood, in which my son would babble adorably and I’d be forced to puzzle out what he was saying. Like a sophisticated, more intelligent version of The Da Vinci Code (with much less Jesus but a much better vocabulary).

Unfortunately, it’s not difficult to decipher my sons favorite words, most of which revolve around refusing to eat things, refusing to do things and refusing to stop doing things. It’s not really that adorable.

The funny pages lied to me.

Spawn in 60 Seconds

We are moving. From the cozy confines of Brooklyn to the Southern jungle of Raleigh, North Carolina.

With moving comes a variety of stresses and concerns. There’s a reason moving is the only thing on earth that’s actually worse than planning a wedding. Am I right, ladies?

Since we happen to be moving from a city with certain conveniences (such as being the GREATEST PLACE ON EARTH!) to an area somewhere below the Mason-Dixon line that may or may not have electricity and written language, we are forced to make a variety of complicated arrangements.

Not the least of which is acquiring an automobile.

And the Hits Just Keep On Coming

On Tuesday I wrote about the possibility of hitting my son.

Mostly because, lately, he won’t seem to stop hitting me!

14 Sep

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline No comments

Scary for Different Reasons

There’s a movie coming out called Mama, about two feral kids trying to adjust to normal life. Apparently the ghost of their dead mother is lurking around, being all angry at Jessica Chastain for usurping her role. The movie looks freaky, sure. They’re the requisite spider-walk popularized in the Exorcist re-release from a few yearsRead more about Scary for Different Reasons[…]

05 Sep

Dad and Buried Posted in Fear 3 comments

Abusement Park: A Visit to Sesame Place

I am what some people might call a bit of a curmudgeon. If I am in a mood, it doesn’t take much to frustrate me and set me on edge.

Thankfully, my son is the perfect antidote for that tendency, with his unique ability to refocus my perspective and make me happy. He’s not a panacea, but my experience this past weekend visiting Sesame Place, the Sesame Street themed amusement park outside of Philadelphia, showed me just how much good he does for my daily mood and overall outlook.

Because holy shit that place is a nightmare.

Dad and Buried

Category: Fear

Teach Impediment

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Spawn in 60 Seconds

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And the Hits Just Keep On Coming

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Scary for Different Reasons

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