Binge Watching

Binge Watching

The Hammer is not even two weeks old and he’s already disrupting our lives.

We love having him around, of course (he’s adorable, and all he does is sleep! What’s not to love?) but the reality of living with an infant is that whatever routine you had – and we had one that worked for close to five years – is immediately thrown in the shredder.

The new baby has changed the way we sleep, changed the way eat, changed the way live, and changed the way we treat each other (sorry, that was Tupac). But perhaps nothing has changed more than how we parent our five-year-old.

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Benefit of the Doubt

Benefit of the Doubt

Over the weekend, someone on my Facebook page told me that because I use the Cry It Out method, I’d broken my son’s trust in me, and another said I was cruel and heartless. These were people I’ve never met, who have never met my son, who have never been privy to my relationship with my son, who have no earthly idea what actually went down, how my son reacted, what the circumstances were, etc.

I don’t get offended very often, or by very much. But being told by complete strangers that I am damaging my relationship with one of my kids and that I don’t care about his well-being because they don’t agree with the way I sleep-train? That got me.

Judge me for crying it out. Judge me for letting my kids watch too much TV, for giving them too many toys, for co-sleeping or calling them assholes on my blog or vaccinating them or using my phone when I’m with them at the playground. I don’t care. Some of that is probably valid.

But don’t question my love for my son(s!).
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This Changes Everything

This Changes Everything

I had no idea it would be this complicated.

I know, I know: I signed up for this, I should have known what I was getting into. Hell, I’d even done the research, reading up online, getting friends opinions, interacting with different kinds just to see how it felt. But when it’s yours, it’s a brand new ballgame.

For years I railed against them. I’m older now. Things have changed. I’ve changed. And when it came time to take it home, I was not even close to prepared for it. This changes everything.

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His Brother’s Keeper?

His Brother’s Keeper?

If things go according to plan, today will be my last day as the father of an only child. More importantly, tomorrow will be the first day of my son’s life as a big brother.

While Mom and Buried and I are learning all over again what it’s like to live with a newborn, my son will be exploring the brave new world of being a big brother. There will be jealousy. There will be territorial spats. Eventually, if his relationship with his brother is anything like every other sibling relationship, there will be wrestling.

Hopefully, there will not be blood.

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Hitting the Reset Button

Hitting the Reset Button

Five years ago, two weeks before Detective Munch was born, I wrote a post about whether I felt ready to be a parent. I did not feel ready. I knew nothing about babies, and the fact that I thought babies were the hard part proves I knew nothing about parenting.

In that sense, nothing has changed. I still don’t know what I’m doing, and it’s been long enough since I’ve held a newborn and changed a diaper that I might as well be starting over.

Next week, after five years of being a dad and (give-or-take) four years since I’ve had a baby to care for, we’re hitting the reset button.

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