Snack Time

Snack Time

If I could, I’d eat nothing but snacks.

Sure, I’d miss cheeseburgers and steak and Al Di La and sushi and all that, but give me a bag of chips – or even some raw broccoli – and a jar of french onion dip and I’m set for life.

This predilection for constant nibbling in between meals makes my role as a parent difficult. Because I am forced to stop my kids from doing the same. (Especially when it’s my snacks they’re stealing!)

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Positive Traits My Kids Got From Me

Positive Traits My Kids Got From Me

This blog isn’t exactly known for its positivity.

If I’m not (facetiously) trashing my kids, I’m (facetiously) trashing myself, or I’m (facetiously) trashing other parents. What can I say, trashing things is fun!

To paraphrase Shakespeare, every once in a while, I come not to bury, but to praise. Today, I’m looking on the bright side, and sharing some of the positive traits I’ve passed down to my two sons.

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Sleepjacker

Sleepjacker

Everyone needs sleep. Parents more than most.

(Well, air traffic controllers more than most, probably, and, soldiers and doctors and stuff too. But parents are definitely on the list. Especially parents who happen to be military doctors turned air traffic controllers!)

We’re tired. And that’s just the way it is and always will be.

We never get enough sleep, but what if there’s a way to improve the sleep we do get?

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My Son Is A Drama King

My Son Is A Drama King

I could never be an actor. I’m too self-conscious. I love watching TV and movies, and I admire what many of those performers are able to do, but that’s not for me. (Not that anyone’s asked!)

My 6-year-old, however, may have a future in the spotlight. Not necessarily because he’s good at pretending (he is) or that he’s a good liar (he’s getting there), but because the dude loves to put on a show!

That is not a compliment. My son is a straight-up drama queen — excuse me, a drama king — and it’s killing me.

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Parenting Regrets

Parenting Regrets

I still remember the night I got a call from my oldest friend and he told me his wife was pregnant. I’ve known this dude since the second grade (Turkey Hill Elementary School Class of ’88 represent!) and he was the first friend of mine to become a parent. It was a big deal.

I was young at the time, and drunk at the time (and maybe other things at the time?) and I had some strong suggestions for how he should raise his child. Living the single life in Southie, having kids of my own was still a long way off for me, but that didn’t matter. I had OPINIONS.

Even just thinking about it makes me hate myself. I knew nothing. More than 12 years later, I still know nothing. Nothing except the stuff I wish I hadn’t done.

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