I love my kids, I just hate parenting
I’ve told my parents I hate them, and you have too.
You probably said it when you were a little kid, like mine did last night, and you also probably said it again when you were a teenager, and maybe you’ve even said it recently, deep into adulthood, you ungrateful man-child.
Every kid says it, and every parent knows it will happen, because kids are mean af.
Read more about Kids Are Mean …
As parents, we strive to give our children everything.
Unfortunately, sometimes they take too much. Especially when it comes to bed space.
I have a lot of stuff on my mind, lately, most of which revolves around the forthcoming arrival of my second child.
We are about the enter the final trimester, and as we cross that checkpoint, shit is getting real. We just moved to a bigger place in order to make room for both the baby and for all the attendant baby gear we’re going to need. In fact, we’ve already started accumulating some of it.
And yet all the baby stuff that has begun filling up our physical space is nothing compared to the baby stuff that’s been filling up my head space.
It’s been a busy September for the Buried clan!
Detective Munch started school, Mom and Buried and I went on a babymoon (I hate that word but I give up), and just yesterday we moved into a new, bigger apartment. Don’t worry, we’re still in Brooklyn.
Due to everything going on with the move, I’m unfortunately not going to have a Wordless Wednesday post for you today. I’m the worst. But I do have some other goodies to share, just in time for decorative gourd season!
Kids are fragile.
This is one of those truths that’s so obvious and terrifying that we try not to think about it too much lest we go insane with worry. Naturally, as Mom and Buried and I await Detective Munch’s new partner, I haven’t been able to keep it out of my mind.
The impending new addition has me stressing out about many things: having enough space, having enough money, having enough sleep, having enough quiet, having enough diapers. But mostly I’ve been fixating on how ridiculously easy it is for children to get hurt.