I love my kids, I just hate parenting
I don’t believe in astrology. That’s probably because I’m a Virgo.
I’m sick of looking at stupid fortunes based on whether your folks got it on on New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s, or Bastille Day. They are vague to the point of meaninglessness. But I guess they can be kind of fun, like fortune cookies.
I just wish they were more specific to my role as a parent.
Sometimes it’s hard to believe how quickly your kid is growing up.
Detective Munch has his last day of preschool today (he can have the ceremony, he can get the diploma, but I’ll be dead in the cold cold ground before I refer to it as graduation!) In September he’ll start Kindergarten, and he can already hold actual conversations and ride a bike and dress himself and brush his own teeth (each with varying degrees of success, but with enough general success that I’m counting them all). He’s still far from being a young man, or even truly independent in any way, but he’s definitely getting there.
At least I thought he was, until I watched him play tee-ball. Because guess what? Turns out there may be no crying in baseball, but there’s plenty in tee-ball.
Disciplining your children can be hard. But with the right attitude, disciplining your children can be a laugh riot!
I love putting my son in time-out, not letting him stay up any later, taking things away from him. Not food or shelter or love (I’m an asshole, not a psychopath!), but toys, and TV, and the other little perks of childhood. I don’t do it to instill values or help make him appreciate what he already has. I don’t even do it because he’s so spoiled already that it serves as a nice change of pace.
While those benefits are all well and good, I like depriving my son of the things he wants because it’s funny and it makes me feel better.
Every time my wife and I show each other any kind of affection, Detective Munch comes bombing over to get in on the action.
He’s like Pepé Le Pew, if Pepé Le Pew were into incestuous threesomes. (Which: probably?)
He’s always butting in! I literally don’t remember what it’s like to have time alone.
A good friend of mine just had his first baby.
Yesterday, in honor of the happy occasion, I pumped the brakes on my signature snark and shared a rare cheesy post, about some of the the unexpected pleasures of fatherhood. Then I went home, told my son to stop doing something, and had this exchange:
“Why?”
“Because I said so!”
“That’s not a reason.”
Needless to say, today I’m back to my old self.