Take This Under Advisement, Jerkweed! – Volume 7

Take This Under Advisement, Jerkweed! – Volume 7

Here’s the thing, people: when I say I’m a parenting expert, I’m being sarcastic. If you’ve read my blog, you know what I think about the idea that anyone can be an “expert” parent. It’s hogwash. It’s all a gamble.

I should have known that my sarcasm might backfire, especially since it’s been happening my entire life. But here we are, with the seventh installment of my advice series, and this time I got a lot of questions. Serious questions. Difficult questions. And I have no choice but to give them a shot.

Just remember, I’m a clown. A buffoon. I’m no more qualified to tell you how to raise your kids than Britney Spears or Dr. Phil. So remember, while some of my responses will likely contain some good ideas and an occasional bit of insight, apply my advice at your own risk. I WRITE JOKES.

Got it? Good. Now let’s go ruin some lives.

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Scrimping and Caving

Scrimping and Caving

A few weeks back, after abandoning potty training due to the onset of trauma, Mom and Buried and I took a quick run to Target.

While there, we decided to buy some off-brand diapers to get us through the next few weeks, enough time for Detective Munch to emerge from his PTSD (Potty Traumatic Stress Disorder) and get back on the potty train.

The cheapo diapers turned out to not be the best idea, as they were cheapo for a reason: they leaked worse than Julian Assange.

Which got me thinking. Maybe I shouldn’t shortchange my son.

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Six Ways Kids Ruin Your Life

Six Ways Kids Ruin Your Life

Having kids changes your life in many ways, and not always good ones.

One of the reasons I started this blog was to vent about the irritating ways my son’s existence has forced me to alter my own and to show the world that having kids doesn’t need to change everything. Yes, becoming a parent definitely changes capital-E Everything, but it doesn’t have to change little-e everything.

So far, Mom and Buried and I have done a pretty good job of maintaining some semblance of our old lives even as the constant, daily, inescapable presence of a (now) toddler has forced us to make certain adjustments. Certain inconvenient and annoying adjustments.

We’ve been doing okay. But we haven’t been able to avoid every headache. Because kids ruin your life.

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Five Ways Toddlers are Like Ray Lewis

Five Ways Toddlers are Like Ray Lewis

This will be the first Super Bowl Sunday my son might actually sit still and watch the game for a few minutes. (Probably while getting really angry about Beyonce’s lip-syncing LIKE THE REST OF US.) It will be the 28th Super Bowl I can remember watching that doesn’t include my Dolphins. Ugh.

On the other hand, my wife is a 49ers fan – something about a childhood crush on Steve Young – and since I have nothing against this young San Francisco team (and I hate the Ravens), our house is all-in for the red and gold today.

But there’s no arguing that the big game’s biggest personality – aside from the Harbaugh brothers’ HILARIOUS parents and Colin Kaepernick’s HILARIOUS fashion sense – is former murder suspect and possible deer-killer or deer-lover or deer-eater or deer-sniffer (who understands these PEDs?), Ray Lewis.

I’m not a big fan of the guy, but he’s definitely larger-than-life. And sometimes he reminds me of my son.

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Page Fright

Page Fright

Somehow it was easier with a baby.

Sure, we were guaranteed multiple trips into his bedroom every night, but when a baby wakes up crying you can cuddle it, feed it, rock it and lay with it until it falls back asleep. Of course that’s not exactly easy, a lot depends on the crankiness of the baby and/or any more serious issues (we escaped the dreaded colic, thank the gods), but it doesn’t require a ton of thought or effort. It’s instinct versus inconvenience.

Toddlers wake up less often but when they do, they’re able to start a conversation. Or worse: make demands.

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