Parents Can Have Fun Too

Parents Can Have Fun Too

So Snooki had a kid. *Sigh*

Look, there are plenty of people out there who have kids that maybe shouldn’t or maybe don’t want to – maybe don’t even mean to – and end up being great parents anyway. So I’m willing to give this “maybe” the benefit of the doubt. At least for a while.

After all, it’s not my business to judge Snooki’s parenting, and honestly, I have little interest in thinking about this thing you call “Snooki” at all.

Unfortunately she’s already said something that goes against everything this blog stands for. And I don’t truck with that.

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Pain Management

Pain Management

There are some aspects of parenting I think I’m probably pretty good at. Of course, they are mostly the fun ones; I’m kind of like Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire before dressing in drag teaches him to be a responsible parent.

I guess that makes my wife Sally Field, which is at least a little true, because my son really really likes her. As in prefers her to everyone else.

Which is okay. It seems pretty normal at this point, and comes in handy when my son hurts himself, because playing nurse is not one of the fun things.

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Worse Than a Baby Ruth

Worse Than a Baby Ruth

This past weekend, on Mother’s Day, we took the Detective to his second swim class of the year.

It’s his second year in such a class; his first went well so we were looking forward to this one. This year we’ve been twice, and it’s not going quite as well – a year older now, he is a lot more aware of what he’s doing and a lot more aggressive in letting us know when he doesn’t want to be doing it.

We assume he’ll be okay after a few sessions, but such expectations are being thwarted by the fact that the second class was cut short, by something out of Caddyshack.

Are there any candy bars that look like vomit?

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