15 Aug

Dad and Buried Posted in Shut Up 53 comments

I Won’t Apologize For Flying With Kids

Last year, there was a popular story about a couple who, before boarding a flight with their infant twins, created and distributed goody bags to the other passengers.

Knowing the odds were high that their babies would make a ruckus, these parents got proactive and put together bags full of candy, ear-plugs, and even a little note in which they apologized for their kids’ potentially-forthcoming commotion. It was a clever strategy, and it inspired copycats, like a blogger friend of mine whose courteous, empathetic wife recently employed a similar gambit.

It just so happens that my wife and I are hopping on a plane later today, along with our excitable toddler. Inspired by the ingenuity and foresight of the people mentioned above, I’ve created a goody bag of my own for our cabin-mates, to thank them for not getting too mad at me for flying with kids.

Let me know what you think!

08 Aug

Dad and Buried Posted in Fear 33 comments

Ten Ways Having a Toddler is Like Being in Prison

As a parent, your schedule is often dictated by the needs of your child, especially when that child is young.

The necessity of getting a toddler home for a nap – as well as the need to get them to bed for the night before the sun has even gone down – can cripple your day. Being sequestered in your home for a few hours is usually better than dealing with a public meltdown from an overtired toddler, so sometimes the trade-off is worth it. Still, raising a toddler can be rather suffocating.

In fact, it’s uncanny how many aspects of the parenting experience are reminiscent of prison. Complete with a sadistic little warden who harbors a Napoleon complex.

06 Aug

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 4 comments

The Universal Parenting Collective

I wasn’t one of those people who used the phrase “we’re pregnant.” For one thing, that phrase diminishes the role the mother plays in childbirth, and considering that the mother’s role encompasses pretty much the whole enchilada, saying “we’re” seemed disingenuous and potentially insulting.

For another, saying it makes me feel like a douchebag.

Aside from including myself as a member of the Miami Dolphins (the 12th man!) or the Boston Red Sox (but I’ve never liked the “Red Sox Nation” thing), I’m not one to use “we” for much of anything. I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel. But I do find myself invoking some mysterious, all-encompassing “we” when explaining something to my son.

I don’t know where “we” came from. And we don’t like it.

02 Aug

Dad and Buried Posted in Fear 2 comments

Woman Up!

My son loves riding the merry-go-round at our local park.

He used to prefer the stationary animals, or even one of the stupid sled things, but as he’s become more enamored with the carousel he’s graduated to the real shit: the animals that slide up and down. I’m glad; there’s little point in even going on the thing if you’re not on one of those.

On our latest trip, I saw that my wife was letting our son ride some overgrown cat thing all by himself. And she chose to ride the animal next to him, rather than stand at his side to make sure he didn’t fall off! I sat on the sidelines (I chose the bench outside because going in circles makes my tummy hurt), panicking as my moron of a son repeatedly took one hand off the pole to wave at me as he went by. Meanwhile, Mom and Buried wasn’t even breaking a sweat.

I need to woman up. My wife has bigger balls than me.

The Negotiator

My son is developing at an incredible rate.

He’s getting taller, his hair is getting longer, his vocabulary is increasing. But even more impressively, he’s already picking up skills most of us don’t use until later in life. Skills like arguing, sarcasm, and, most frustratingly, negotiation.

At the young age of not-even-three, my innocent child is becoming a slick little deal-maker. It’s enough to make me ~~sick~~ proud.

Dad and Buried

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I Won’t Apologize For Flying With Kids

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Ten Ways Having a Toddler is Like Being in Prison

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