Scarier Than Halloween

Scarier Than Halloween

Halloween stops being scary once you hit a certain age. Unless you’re a woman, then it never stops being scary. For multiple reasons.

As a parent, there are countless things to be afraid of. But monsters and zombies and expensive vinyl outfits that rip as you take them out of their packaging are pretty far down the list. (They didn’t even make my list.)

I made a new list of things that I, as the parent of a six-year-old and a baby, find much scarier than Halloween.
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Can’t Stay-At-Home Moms Get A Little Love?

Can’t Stay-At-Home Moms Get A Little Love?

I was a stay-at-home dad once, for almost two years. I wasn’t a fan. But that wasn’t my wife’s fault.

It was boring. It was isolating. It was exhausting. That wasn’t my wife’s fault either. (It was my son’s.)

Yes, I bonded with Detective Munch and we had plenty of good times, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t prefer going to work to being home all day. And it’s partly because I remember those days that now that my wife is home with a new baby, I’m determined to help her out as much as I can.

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Vacationing with Kids

Vacationing with Kids

I’d like to say that it seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’d be lying.

I’ve gone on vacations with my kids before. (Well, with my lone kid. The second one is brand new.) And while they’ve been fun, they don’t exactly qualify as vacations. Vacations are meant to be about relaxation, and recharging, maybe some reading, and maybe getting some extra rest. Vacationing with kids is a different thing entirely.

This past spring, when I took my 5-year-old and my 3-month-old on our first family-of-four vacation, I was not anticipating much in the way of relaxation. (I’m not really anticipating either of those things ever again.)

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Damage Control

Damage Control

Someone must have told Rogaine® that I just turned 40.

Shortly after my birthday, they sent me some of their product that treats Hereditary Hair Loss – thinning at the crown of the head – in what has to be considered one of the sickest burns of all time.

I just wish they’d sent it twenty years ago, when I could have prepared myself.

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The Death of Cool Dad

The Death of Cool Dad

Today, I turn 40.

This used to be a big deal. It used to mean middle age. But I’m not really sweating it. Sure, there are some things I’m disappointed I haven’t accomplished yet (*coughMYBOOKcough*) but 40 is the new 30, so I still have some time.

But there is one thing that bums me out about today’s milestone.

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