Is it Right to Judge

Is it Right to Judge

I hate judgment, especially when it comes to parenting.

It’s presumptuous and self-righteous and, worst of all, it only serves to obscure – if not outright obliterate – the empathy that should be both the prevalent emotion and the primary response to seeing another parent struggling. We all live in the same huge glass house, surrounded by miniature, walking, talking, wrecking balls, and we’re all barefoot and bloodied, like John McClane.

Being given a hard time when your kid isn’t behaving is the last thing a parent needs.

It’s difficult enough being responsible for the safety and development of a brand new, slowly-developing, borderline-feral human being without someone explaining to you everything you’re doing wrong.

It’s never right to judge. So why do I want you to judge me?

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[E-card] No Egos Allowed

[E-card] No Egos Allowed

Less Stressful Than Parenting

Less Stressful Than Parenting

This morning I went to the DMV.

I don’t even have to say anything else; you already know how my morning went. Add subway troubles and tax issues to that and you’ll have a decent idea of why my Friday is starting to feel like a Monday.

The good news is that when I get home there’s a decent chance my son will tell me he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore before spending a large chunk of the three hours before he goes to bed screaming and whining and being put in time-out.

Suddenly the DMV doesn’t seem so bad.

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Scar Wars

Scar Wars

My son hasn’t seen Star Wars yet!

But thanks to its pop culture ubiquity, he definitely knows about it. Whether or not the kids themselves have seen the movies, my son’s preschool classmates wear shirts emblazoned with the different characters, Detective Munch himself has a toy light-saber, and he’s already announced that he wants to be Darth Vader for next Halloween. (He’s also announced that he wants to be Thor, Captain America, Iron Man, Batman, and the Joker, so let’s give it some time before we buy the next costume.) Sight unseen!

Recently he even asked me if he could watch it “someday,” a question I could barely even answer due to my enormous grin.

Like every dad whose childhood was shaped by the original trilogy, I am dying to show it to my son. But I’m exercising restraint. Because Mom and Buried.

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The Stages of Halloween

The Stages of Halloween

Halloween doesn’t mean the same thing when you’re ten as it does when you’re twenty. Or when you have kids of your own. Priorities change…

Check out this handy chart detailing all the different stages of the spookiest night of the year!

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