My Little Bronies

My Little Bronies

This morning, my brother alerted me to this story in the Wall Street Journal, about a burgeoning subculture of older people (read: teens and up) who are enthusiastic about the new version of the “My Little Pony” cartoon.

Older male people.

As a free thinking liberal who supports gay marriage, female hockey players and David Bowie, I have no problem with this on any kind of gender-stereotyping level. Besides, there’s a good chance that my previous sentence, in which I lump these male “Pony” enthusiasts in with homosexuals, is potentially offensive to the aforementioned “bronies.” (Yes, bronies. That’s what they call themselves. I know, right?)

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The Scariest Job in the World

The Scariest Job in the World

Last week I wrote a lighthearted piece about my wife’s obsession with Halloween. And I posted this terrifying clip from “Twin Peaks,” featuring a character I truly consider to be the most frightening fictional creation of all time.

Those posts were meant to be fun, and so is Halloween. Being scared is fun (unless you’re my wife or my friend Suj or my older brother Mark) and eating candy is fun and dressing up is fun (especially if you’re my wife or my friend Suj). And having a little kid with whom to experience Halloween makes all of those things even more enjoyable.

Obviously, today actually is Halloween, and while this post may be violating the generally accepted tenor of the holiday, it seems an appropriate time to discuss one of the toughest aspects of being a parent.

It’s completely and utterly terrifying.

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Parents Don’t Deserve Happiness

Parents Don’t Deserve Happiness

All babies are created equal. Their parents are not.

Babies are little humans, slowly developing their own personalities and opinions and interests. As clean slates making their way toward self-realization, they deserve the benefit of the doubt and the unencumbered opportunity to reach their fullest potential.

Parents, however, have had their chance. They are adults (give or take every parent ever featured on MTV or VH1) who’ve they lived their lives and are what they are. At some point they decided (give or take every parent ever featured on MTV or VH1) to have a kid. Or two. Or 19. And now they have to live with that decision. They weren’t born parents, they became parents. They chose their lifestyle, they made their beds – and they deserve no quarter.

And no happiness.

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The Crying It Out Game

The Crying It Out Game

My son hit the eleven-week mark yesterday.

The bigger news is that he hit the 13 pound mark a few weeks ago. Upon crossing the 12-pound Rubicon (WHY DID THEY CANCEL “RUBICON”?!), our pediatrician told use that he was perfectly capable of sleeping through the night without needing to be fed. “Twelve hours. I know it sounds tough,” she said, “and it is, but you have to establish the routine.”

Apparently he needs to learn to soothe and sedate himself, even if it means crying himself hoarse, and it won’t be until he gets to college that he’ll learn all the fun ways to do that!

Until then, “Crying It Out” is the way to go…or is it?

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Humiliate Your Children

Humiliate Your Children

You owe it to yourself to humiliate your children.

When they’re older they’ll do it to themselves, whether they like it or not. It’s totally inevitable that at some point in their lives our children will be the focus of widespread ridicule as the result of some embarrassing miscue, whether it’s accidentally going into the girls’ bathroom or clumsily tripping on stage as they reach for their diploma or someone filming a video of them when they’re so drunk their attempts at speech sound like Chewbacca making love to the Hulk.

It’ll happen. Just as it’s happened to all of us. Until it does, it’s your job. And it must be done.

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