I Won’t Let My Son Play Football

I Won’t Let My Son Play Football

Junior Seau died Wednesday in an apparent suicide. A legendary member of the San Diego Chargers (along with less legendary stints with the Miami Dolphins and New England Patriots) and surefire Hall-of-Famer, Seau joins a growing list of NFL players who’ve died too young.

As someone who follows the NFL pretty devotedly, in matters both on the field and off, I’m guessing it won’t be long before someone links Seau’s suicide to the concussions and head trauma he suffered throughout his hall of fame career (in fact, it’s already happened).

Is there any parent left that is going to let their kid play football? Outside of Texas, I mean.

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Horror, Christian-Style

Horror, Christian-Style

If this isn’t the best plot description of all time, then I’m the son of a virgin: Harmless is a feature film shot in the popular found footage style. It’s the story about a husband and father and his battle with a box of porn that is found in the closet. Once opened, the boxRead more about Horror, Christian-Style[…]

Approaching the Terrible Twos

Approaching the Terrible Twos

I was under the impression that the Terrible Twos started when the kid actually turns two. Hence the name.

But I think I was wrong.

Because my son is 19 months old, a good half-year away from being two, and things are already getting pretty darn terrible.

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Has It Come to This?

Has It Come to This?

Before I became a parent, I made a lot of blanket statements about what I would and wouldn’t do should that day come.

At the top of the list? Putting a leash on my child.

A year and a half in, dealing with an unruly toddler who would like nothing more than to run into traffic or down a spiral staircase or into the maws of a giant piece of machinery, I am thisclose to putting the kid in a cat carrier.

And after the incident last weekend, a leash is starting to seem like the most reasonable thing in the world.

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When Your Spouse Questions Your Parenting

When Your Spouse Questions Your Parenting

This blog has evolved.

It started as, and will always be, a blog about balancing the joy-sucking demands of fatherhood with the desire to actually have a life and a libido and a buzz once in a while. But faced with the emergence of an enemy that was heretofore hidden from my non-parent self, the blog has acquired a mission: keeping moms and dads free from the judgment of the Other Parent.

So what happens when the Other Parent is your spouse? What do you do when your spouse questions your parenting?

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