I love my kids, I just hate parenting
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.
Oh happy day!
My son performed his first successful poop in the potty this morning, and I wanted to share the proud moment with all of my blog readers.
It’s only right that you should experience this along with me, and share in my triumph.
Thanks for making the image on the next page possible!
Having kids is a constant test. Of your patience, your mettle, your marriage and constantly, your gag reflex. A year ago at this time, my son was hosting Hand, Foot and Mouth disease. It was gross, and we survived. Then he got it again. Shouldn’t there be a limit to unconditional love? This June, heRead more about Zombie Post: Love Trumps All, Unfortunately[…]
A few weeks back, after abandoning potty training due to the onset of trauma, Mom and Buried and I took a quick run to Target.
While there, we decided to buy some off-brand diapers to get us through the next few weeks, enough time for Detective Munch to emerge from his PTSD (Potty Traumatic Stress Disorder) and get back on the potty train.
The cheapo diapers turned out to not be the best idea, as they were cheapo for a reason: they leaked worse than Julian Assange.
Which got me thinking. Maybe I shouldn’t shortchange my son.
Everyone hates going to the dentist.
These days, my two-year-old’s bedtime routine is making me hate BEING the dentist.
I didn’t realize that teaching my kid how to be a normal person would be such hard work.