29 Apr

Dad and Buried Posted in Advice 2 comments

Parental Advisories – Volume 9

Look. It’s not that I don’t want to give you people advice, it’s that you won’t allow me to. Even after my previous EIGHT installments of my parental advisories, in which I’ve dominated the field and proven my bona fides as someone who can write middling jokes while being kind of insulting and mostly side-stepping your very real domestic problems. I own the space!

You want in on this expertise? Then you’d better get to asking more questions!

Until then, I’ll service the meager few who’ve got the balls to admit – and/or are so drunk they actually think – that I’m a better parent than they are.

Like these brave souls below.

14 Apr

Dad and Buried Posted in Advice 2 comments

Parenting Is An Experiment

Over the weekend, I read a couple of parenting articles in The New York Times.

It was some intense reading full of hardcore facts and figures and suggestions and techniques, and I came away from it thinking that I have no idea what I’m doing as a parent. Which is totally cool, because I already knew that. It helped to discover that, judging by the articles, no one else knows what they’re doing either.

But thank God I don’t believe in parenting experts because even if I did, I have no idea how I’d be expected to even remember all the so-called “best” techniques, let alone have the wherewithal and discipline to implement them. Nor would I necessarily want to.

Parenting is an experiment, but our kids shouldn’t be test subjects.

01 Apr

Dad and Buried Posted in Digression No comments

Pre-Natal Post: “Getting a Blown Job”

Years ago, before I had a blog, I wrote for an online magazine called Intrepid Media. It had a small but dedicated following, and my style was much the same as it is now: bitter, sarcastic, something of a put-on, just less-developed and almost completely non-child related. I didn’t have a kid yet, so the topics were more varied, if you think writing about being irrationally angry about many different things qualifies as variety.

I thought I’d occasionally re-post an article from the now defunct magazine. Why? I’m not sure. They are old – I wrote a column a month for about 10 years, before stopping in early 2011 (give-or-take one or two more) – and dated and re-reading them makes me cringe, but whatever, sometimes you need to re-post old stuff just fill out a week.

This one seems appropriate for several reasons, which may or may not become apparent when you finish reading it. Enjoy! Or don’t enjoy, because either way, without Intrepid Media and the posts that will be featured in this new “series,” I would never have met Mom and Buried. And Detective Munch would not exist. The writing is just gravy.

And so, the first Pre-Natal post.

25 Feb

Dad and Buried Posted in Health 6 comments

The Sick Day Scramble

It’s terrible when your kid gets sick. Especially when he barely knows it.

My son is three and a half, and this winter he’s had a few tough colds. The coughing, the sore throat, the eternally running nose (although he’s had one of those since he was born, so that’s more of a curse than a health issue), all have reared their heads at one time or another, much to our dismay. Of course, being a resilient, happy-go-lucky kind of guy, Detective Munch barely seems to notice his own symptoms.

Unfortunately, his preschool does notice them. His teachers are like dogs; they can smell sickness. So he’s forced to stay home. And that is a huge hassle.

Read more about The Sick Day Scramble …

20 Feb

Dad and Buried Posted in Health 6 comments

How a Trip to the ER Made Me a Better Parent

To tell you the truth, I don’t remember a lot about it. But I remember the panic.

I remember the dark smudges on my son’s face. I remember sitting in the emergency room watching “30 Rock” on mute, desperately hoping we’d be able to go home soon.

I had accidentally spilled some prescription pills on the floor while my son played nearby. After cleaning them up and being unable to verify how many were in the bottle beforehand, we were terrified that he might have ingested one. It was just an accident. The bottle fell. It wasn’t sitting there open, it wasn’t within my son’s reach. It simply fell. But accident or not, it was still my fault.

Yeah, I definitely remember the panic.

Dad and Buried

Category: Health

Parental Advisories – Volume 9

Like this:

Parenting Is An Experiment

Like this:

Pre-Natal Post: “Getting a Blown Job”

Like this:

The Sick Day Scramble

Like this:

How a Trip to the ER Made Me a Better Parent

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: