I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Parenting is frustrating. And sometimes it’s not even your kids’ fault! Sometimes, you’re your own worst enemy.
Detective Munch loves to swim. He’s had lessons almost every year since he was a baby, but he’s always been scared to dunk his head. Despite several summers spent at Grandma’s pool and on the beach, he still wouldn’t go under.
It bugged me. To a fault.
Read more about Just Keep Swimming …
Yesterday morning, my wife and I were watching the Olympics, specifically the women’s cycling road race and some qualifiying events in gymnastics. (What can I say? it was a lazy Sunday morning and we don’t have cable.)
My son was mostly playing by himself while we watched, but when the gymnastics came on, he started to emulate the athletes on screen. He was bending down and stomping his feet and throwing his hands up and just generally being a very cute, very funny little guy.
And yet during his gold medal cuteness routine, all I could think was: please god don’t somehow end up being good at gymnastics.
I taught my son to say “smash!” like the Hulk. It’s awesome. But now everytime I show him a superhero, whether it’s Spider-Man, Superman or even Aquaman (I have a t-shirt. Don’t hate.), he does his “smash!” routine. So on the Fourth I took him to the pool to try and show him the differenceRead more about Smash! v. Splash[…]
This past weekend, on Mother’s Day, we took the Detective to his second swim class of the year.
It’s his second year in such a class; his first went well so we were looking forward to this one. This year we’ve been twice, and it’s not going quite as well – a year older now, he is a lot more aware of what he’s doing and a lot more aggressive in letting us know when he doesn’t want to be doing it.
We assume he’ll be okay after a few sessions, but such expectations are being thwarted by the fact that the second class was cut short, by something out of Caddyshack.
Are there any candy bars that look like vomit?