Second Kid Slacking

Second Kid Slacking

Last week, The Hammer turned two!

The last two years have moved pretty quickly, but a lot of that is probably because I’ve spent most of that time sleepwalking half-awake through my life. The baby phase is over and the toddler phase is in full-swing, so if the terrible twos actually arrive on time (Detective Munch didn’t get terrible until he became a threenager), I’m about to be awoken very abruptly.

In order to save my sanity, I’ve started indulging in some second kid slacking.

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Is Parenting Overrated?

Is Parenting Overrated?

I recently shared a tweet decrying the daily balance parents are forced to strike between their kids’ lives and their own.

My tweet was about the well-deserved oasis of adult time that falls between those few hours when my oldest son goes to sleep and when I go to sleep, and about how that gap is shrinking as he gets older and stays up later.

When I shared it on Twitter, a fellow parent responded succinctly: Parenting is overrated.

But is it?
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I Won’t Apologize For Getting Political

I Won’t Apologize For Getting Political

Last week, in the wake of President Trump’s 5000th example (“shithole”) of why he’s both the worst president of all time and one of the worst people on earth, I posted a few “political” posts on Facebook and Instagram.

Almost immediately, I got jumped on for violating a make-believe oath I never took about only using my accounts to provide an escape for strangers I’ll never meet.

Please allow me to not apologize.

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Parenting Isn’t A Job

Parenting Isn’t A Job

Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t hate my kids.

In fact, some of the time, I downright love the little jerks! They’re fun in very specific, individual ways, which is delightful, and they’re annoying in mostly general, every-kid-is-like-that ways, which is forgivable.

But I do hate parenting, at least some of the time. It’s a tough gig. And referring to it as a “gig” is part of the problem. Because parenthood is not a job. And treating it like one – like a chore to begrudgingly complete – is bad for everyone.

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The Disease of More

The Disease of More

My 7-year-old always wants more.

He wants more toys, even though he doesn’t play with half the ones he has. He wants more dessert, even when he can barely ask for it because his mouth is already full of dessert. He wants more time before bed, which he usually gets by tortuously extending the bedtime routine. All this demand for more makes me want less — less whining, less stress, less kids!

Of course, children aren’t the only ones who want more. Adults have the same obsession, especially parents.

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