I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Mom and Buried showed the kid an old “Mr. Rogers” episode the other day. To my surprise, he sat in rapt attention for the entirety of the the episode. He can’t get enough of it! He’s constantly asking to hear “the neighbor song.” We try not to let him watch too much TV, but heRead more about Zombie Post: Welcome to the “Neighborhood”[…]
Yesterday, upon hearing news about plans for a 4th Toy Story movie, I wrote a tweet poking fun at how dark the last movie was and where the latest sequel might go if it continued to up the stakes. Judging by how many people starred and retweeted what was an inappropriate – and really notRead more about Zombie Post: You Can’t Unsee Toy Story 3[…]
The last time I wrote about my son’s penis, it ignited a firestorm in the comments.
(Seriously. The two most controversial posts I’ve written have been about circumcision and My Little Pony.)
This one isn’t about anything nearly as controversial as men who like cartoons that are made for little girls, but it does involve my son being naked. I also threw Return of the Jedi into it. So maybe the Bronies and the anti-circumcision crowd can find some common ground when I talk about…
BATH TIME!
“Little kids are sponges.”
You hear it all the time, and it’s true. My son’s vocabulary increases every day, and most of what he’s learning he gets right from Mom and Dad, such as his first “curse” word, the relatively innocuous “dammit!” Needless to say, we’ve had to become a lot more careful about the words we use. It’s a bit of a pain.
But there’s a flip side to that coin. Sure, he parrots a lot of stuff we don’t even realize we’ve said around him, or don’t necessarily want him to be saying, but we can also train him to provide some entertainment. For example…
Lately I’ve been participating in this blog contest, Blogger Idol.
In order to enter the contest we needed to submit an audition, explaining our blogs and inviting the judges to take a look at them. Somehow I managed to make the finals, over the course of which I am tasked with a new assignment every week that is meant to stretch my writing abilities. Our assignments are rated by a selection of judges, whose scores are then combined with at-large votes from the online community.
I am still alive, but none of the assignments so far has exactly been in my wheelhouse, and several of the judges have professed reservations about some of my drinking-related and/or fatherhood-griping-related content. Which has confused me a little, since I auditioned and all. But it’s not their fault if they don’t like my blog or my sense of humor. It’s the luck of the draw.
But now I am faced with a bit of a dilemma. Because I want to win the contest. But not by changing my style.