You’re a Good Parent

You’re a Good Parent

I don’t know you. And I don’t know your kids.

I have no idea what they’re like, how they act in public, at restaurants, in movie theaters. I don’t know if they have good manners, if they curse, if they listen to you more than they don’t, if they eat their dinners without argument and clean their rooms when asked.

I’ve never met you and probably never will. I couldn’t pick you out in a lineup. (I hope you’re not in any line-ups.) I don’t know if you’re quick to yell, or if you’re lazy, or if you’re neglectful.

But that doesn’t matter. I know you’re a good parent.

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In Defense of “Because I Said So”

In Defense of “Because I Said So”

Last week, a friend of mine wrote a nice little post about a subject that’s dear to my heart. He had me at the title: It’s Not Just a Phase. Kids are Assholes. They sure are!

Unfortunately, despite our affinity for insulting our children, I have to take issue with one thing he said in his piece. I quote: “‘Because I said so’ is the phrase of a lazy parent…”

Ahem. I know lazy parents. Lazy parents are friends of mine. In fact, I am a lazy parent.

“Because I said so” is not lazy parenting. Not all the time.

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Is It Bedtime Yet?

Is It Bedtime Yet?

Children will never admit to being tired.

They’ll shake their heads while they’re yawning if they think it will buy them five more minutes of doing whatever stupid bullshit they’re doing. My son hates going to bed more than I hate trying to put my son to bed!

They simply don’t know what’s best for them. So it’s up to us to decide.

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Don’t Fear the Future

Don’t Fear the Future

I’ve never really liked post-apocalyptic movies.

You know the ones, where the world is shit, whether by circumstance or calamity, and everyone left is fighting for survival and scrounging for sustenance. Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome‘s dry, desert dystopia just depresses me (although I definitely enjoyed Fury Road). Everyone is so dirty! It looks miserable. One of the reasons people prefer The Empire Strikes Back to Star Wars is because for once, Tattoine isn’t involved.

The good news is I’m almost 40; the odds of having to experience such a hellscape in real life dwindle with every birthday I have. The bad news is that with every birthday he has, my son may actually be getting closer to experiencing such a life.

Thankfully, I don’t really care.

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Growing Up (Not So) Fast

Growing Up (Not So) Fast

It’s rare to find a parent who didn’t measure the passage of time by juxtaposing pictures of their kid’s first day of school in September with their kid’s last day of school in June.

And then, with a mixture of pride (“He did it!”) and petulance (“He’s growing up too fast!”), they bemoan the passage of time, whine about how fast it’s all going, and bitch about how quickly kids grow up.

I call bullshit.

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