I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Parenting advice is tricky.
Getting it from strangers is seldom welcome, getting it from non-parents is never welcome, and getting it from me is a laugh riot!
Unsolicited parenting advice, of course, is almost always unwanted, and if that advice is also useless? Don’t bother.
Since September, my first-grader’s reading skills have exploded.
He went from being nervous about reading in front of the class to pointing out every word he sees to reading full books on his own – and being excited to do it. It’s been amazing to watch the growth over the course of the school year, and while I was never worried about him being behind in some imaginary race to another developmental milestone, it’s definitely gratifying.
I’m excited for the growth to continue and to be able to introduce him to some of the many books I loved when I was a little dude. Of course, as is the case with every new skill your children acquire, there are some drawbacks.
For the past week or so, ever since the baseball incident, Detective Munch has been at the top of his game.
He’s been on his best behavior, in a good mood, helpful with The Hammer, cooperative with us. There’s been nary a fit or whine-fest, and we only almost missed the school bus once. It’s kind of scary. He’s been so good it’s almost like our parenting is paying off!
This is when I need to remind myself not to get cocky, kid. Stay woke!
My son got hit in the face with a baseball the other day.
This would have been terrible on its own, but the fact that it happened right in the middle of me scolding him for being a pain in the ass made it even worse.
It’s not easy being a disciplinarian when your kid is crying in pain.
When I get home from work, I’m pretty spent.
My days are usually filled with meetings and deadlines and fire drills and brainstorming and phone calls — capped off by a long commute on a crowded subway. So, by the time I get home, the last thing I want to do is something mentally taxing. I want a drink, a seat and some television.
But, alas, I have kids, so before I get to do those things, I have to deal with the fruit of my loins first. And that means common core.