06 Sep

Dad and Buried Posted in Fear No comments

You Can’t Handle the Proof!

You never quite realize how dangerous your home is until you have a child. Once your kid gets mobile, perfectly innocuous things that seemed safe for years will become booby-trapped death machines.

The furniture you’ve had for years, drawers you haven’t even opened in months, the stuff you’ve lost beneath, between and behind your couch? None of it is safe. The kid will find it – every jagged, swallow-able, poisonous bit of it – and he will find a way to use it, as a weapon, on himself. Seriously: babies should be hired to brainstorm for the military; the unique ways they have of injuring themselves have to be use-able in combat.

They are like little MacGyvers of pain.

01 Sep

Dad and Buried Posted in Fear No comments

Blight in August

I am glad August is over.

Between a whole bunch of travel (some leisure-based, some not), Hurricane Irene, the heat, the interminable NFL preseason, the terrible television and my son’s graduation into a mobile, havoc-wreaking machine, August was tough. So, except for the fact that September is likely to be even worse – what with my birthday, my son’s birthday, our anniversary, football season, fantasy season AND the fact that I totally forgot to say “Rabbit rabbit” this morning! – I am ready to turn the page into fall.

The Toddler Menace

I have made my peace with babies. After long, contentious negotiations, we’ve finally come to terms.

Of course, I still hate your baby (sorry, but it’s true. My baby is the best, your baby is the worst; that’s just the way it is.) But babies in general? They’re okay. There’s been a lot of chatter lately, as usual, about whether kids should be allowed in restaurants. This place banned them. You already know how I feel.

Babies aren’t the issue, believe me. After 10 months of living with one, I understand them now; at least, I understand them as much as I ever will. I’m used to having a baby around, I know the drill; I can deal with babies. They are what they are and they are controllable.

Toddlers, on the other hand…

Raising Kids With Religion – or Not

I was raised Catholic. And like everyone else who was raised Catholic, I am what you might call “lapsed.” (In reality I am actually just “not a Catholic anymore,” but my parents might read this, so let’s go with “lapsed.”)

I don’t put much truck in religion these days; it has its purpose for many, and I don’t begrudge them their beliefs, except of course when they use those beliefs as a rationale for violence and intolerance and hatred and war and etc. Which is a lot of people, but it certainly isn’t the majority. So go ahead and pray if you like; I just won’t be joining you.

But my son might.
Read more about Raising Kids With Religion – or Not …

02 Dec

Dad and Buried Posted in Fear 16 comments

The Crying It Out Game

My son hit the eleven-week mark yesterday.

The bigger news is that he hit the 13 pound mark a few weeks ago. Upon crossing the 12-pound Rubicon (WHY DID THEY CANCEL “RUBICON”?!), our pediatrician told use that he was perfectly capable of sleeping through the night without needing to be fed. “Twelve hours. I know it sounds tough,” she said, “and it is, but you have to establish the routine.”

Apparently he needs to learn to soothe and sedate himself, even if it means crying himself hoarse, and it won’t be until he gets to college that he’ll learn all the fun ways to do that!

Until then, “Crying It Out” is the way to go…or is it?

Dad and Buried

Category: Fear

You Can’t Handle the Proof!

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Blight in August

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The Toddler Menace

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Raising Kids With Religion – or Not

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The Crying It Out Game

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