I love my kids, I just hate parenting
We are one of the lucky ones: our child sleeps.
Wary of all the horror stories, we opted to give Cry It Out a shot. It worked like a charm (and I recommend it up and down). When our son goes to sleep, he stays asleep. For 11 to 12 hours. Every night.
But, every once in a while, when he’s not feeling well or is tossing and turning, we will let him sleep in our bed.
It never goes well.
Having your first kid is not easy. Despite all the books and the advice, there’s really have no way of knowing what you’re getting into or what you’ll need to survive it all. Every parent gets a bunch of crap when they are having a kid, and a fair amount of it are things that they initially have no real idea what to do with – until they suddenly need to figure it out REAL QUICK.
It’s kind of like a computer game where you collect all sorts of random items you can’t fathom any use for, and then you get to a specific puzzle and it suddenly becomes clear that the only way to solve it is by using that jar of butt paste you somehow acquired way back when.
This morning, my brother alerted me to this story in the Wall Street Journal, about a burgeoning subculture of older people (read: teens and up) who are enthusiastic about the new version of the “My Little Pony” cartoon.
Older male people.
As a free thinking liberal who supports gay marriage, female hockey players and David Bowie, I have no problem with this on any kind of gender-stereotyping level. Besides, there’s a good chance that my previous sentence, in which I lump these male “Pony” enthusiasts in with homosexuals, is potentially offensive to the aforementioned “bronies.” (Yes, bronies. That’s what they call themselves. I know, right?)
Last week I wrote a lighthearted piece about my wife’s obsession with Halloween. And I posted this terrifying clip from “Twin Peaks,” featuring a character I truly consider to be the most frightening fictional creation of all time.
Those posts were meant to be fun, and so is Halloween. Being scared is fun (unless you’re my wife or my friend Suj or my older brother Mark) and eating candy is fun and dressing up is fun (especially if you’re my wife or my friend Suj). And having a little kid with whom to experience Halloween makes all of those things even more enjoyable.
Obviously, today actually is Halloween, and while this post may be violating the generally accepted tenor of the holiday, it seems an appropriate time to discuss one of the toughest aspects of being a parent.
It’s completely and utterly terrifying.
Parenting is not a competition. But that doesn’t stop some parents from treating it like one.
Last week I wrote a post about the self-loathing I felt upon stating my son’s age in months. The first comment I received was a joke about how I should get my son checked out because he’s not yet walking on his own.
At least I hope it was a joke.