18 Dec

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline One comment

The Boy Who Cried Gibberish

A few people have mentioned to Mom and Buried and me that Detective Munch has a good vocabulary for a kid his age. I don’t disagree, I mean, I’ve got him speaking jive, singing Christmas (and Beastie Boys) songs, and telling people “See ya later, alligator!” He can say some solid stuff.

Of course, he’s only two, so his vocabulary isn’t that good. Plus, a lot of the things he says are barely recognizable as English, and are probably only decipherable by me and Mom and Buried, if at all. And that so-called good vocabulary gets a lot worse when he’s distraught.

When he’s upset, whether it’s because he’s being a brat or because he got a boo-boo, words go out the window. Which can make solving – or even identifying – the problem quite tricky.

10 Dec

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 5 comments

The Papa Master: Five Ways My Kid Controls Me

Nobody wants their kids to run their lives.

Mom and Buried and I are doing a pretty good job of preventing our little tyrant from eliminating all of our free time (i.e., our drinking) and running roughshod all over our social lives (i.e., our drinking with friends), but, fantastic parents that we are, we still spend a lot of time with our son, doing what he wants. Or what we think he needs. Or what we think he’s saying he wants (he still doesn’t do English so good).

And while we do our best to have separate identities other than just “Mom” and “Dad,” there are still times he has control of our lives. And, in some cases, our bodies.

28 Nov

Dad and Buried Posted in Future 3 comments

Kids are Sponges

“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…

Blogger Idol 2012 – Week 7: Je Ne Regrette Rien!

We finally (re-)elected a president, but the voting’s not over yet. I still need your help!

Blogger Idol carries on, and as one of the final 6, I need your votes more than ever.

This time around we had to write about a chance we didn’t take, a decision we made over the course of our lifetime that potentially altered its trajectory. I almost wrote about the blunder that was NOT switching to contact lenses earlier – I waited until after college; I could totally be married to Kate Beckinsale right now, dammit!

But since I’m already married to her non-celebrity equivalent, I chose something else.

19 Oct

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline No comments

Teach Impediment

The reality of being a dad has a way of completely upending your pre-parent expectations.

A few months ago, I wrote about looking forward to the “Rose Is Rose” portion of toddlerhood, in which my son would babble adorably and I’d be forced to puzzle out what he was saying. Like a sophisticated, more intelligent version of The Da Vinci Code (with much less Jesus but a much better vocabulary).

Unfortunately, it’s not difficult to decipher my sons favorite words, most of which revolve around refusing to eat things, refusing to do things and refusing to stop doing things. It’s not really that adorable.

The funny pages lied to me.

Dad and Buried

Category: Language

The Boy Who Cried Gibberish

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The Papa Master: Five Ways My Kid Controls Me

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Kids are Sponges

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Blogger Idol 2012 – Week 7: Je Ne Regrette Rien!

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Teach Impediment

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