I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Exhaustion is the number one parenting complaint on a long list of them. It’s valid, it’s real, and it’s very old news. Oh, you’re tired? Tell me something I don’t know.
Sorry, but being tired isn’t cool. You know what’s cool? A billion tireds! Being tired and parenting anyway!
I call it “parenting on empty.” But I should probable just call it “parenting” because we all do it. And it’s impressive AF.
A few years ago, I ranted hard against a couple who created a list of guidelines for visitors who wanted to stop by and meet their newborn. They were essentially expecting friends and family to barter for an audience with their baby via handouts and housework.
It made little sense that a couple with such bizarre manners and expectations would have anyone visiting them, let alone enough people who it required rules and regulations. After all, this was a generic newborn, not the Pope. It was utterly ridiculous, and my post quickly became one of my most popular pieces.
Most of us felt that the couple was entitled and oblivious. Apparently, they were pioneers!
It’s the best of times, it’s the worst of times, it’s bedtime. You’ve done it, you’ve survived another day of parenting, and your reward – a few hours of adult TV, a glass of wine or beer, and a little blissful silence – is just around the corner. But first, you have one more challenge:Read more about Bedtime is Hell[…]
I am not ashamed to admit that I sleep on the couch sometimes, and it’s not always because Mom and Buried is mad at me!
Sometimes it’s because I’M mad at HER! How about THAT?!
Most of the time, though, I sleep on the couch because it’s the nice thing to do…
The other night, Detective Munch came to our room at about 1:30 AM, woke Mom and Buried and me up, and told us he couldn’t sleep. Actually, what he said was that he’d been “awake since 7” and had been lying in bed with his eyes wide open the entire time.
This was blatantly false on several levels (he didn’t even go to bed until 8!), the latest in a long line of excuses and/or lies he uses to try to get into our bed.
My son is addicted to co-sleeping, so this happens a few times a week. I don’t always handle it well.