I love my kids, I just hate parenting
I talk a lot about the tyranny of judgment on this blog. Because it’s the worst, in all its forms. And there are many.
There’s the judgment of strangers. There’s the judgment of Other Parents. There’s even the judgment of spouses.
But the worst judgment of all has to be the judgment of your children. Especially when they’re right.
![[E-card] No Rest for the Wicked](https://dadandburied.com/wp-content/themes/llorix-one-lite/images/no-thumbnail-mobile.jpg)
As you may know, we’re back in Brooklyn. Which is for the best, even though many of the reasons we left were still waiting for us when we got back: namely the insane cost of living, which includes everything from the rent to the cost of daycare to the price of a six-pack.
One of the most outrageous offenders in the “You gotta be rich just to be poor there” category is the cost of a babysitter. But I’ve whined about how expensive babysitters are already.
Now can I whine about how terrifying they are?
Hello, Dad and Buried followers! Chances are you’ve been reading D&B for some time now, and I know what you’ve been thinking: who is the woman lucky enough to have snagged the “amazing” man behind this “amazing” blog?
That would be me. Eat your hearts out, ladies.
That’s right, I am Mom and Buried. After much pathetic begging on his part, I’ve finally decided to oblige my dear husband and write a guest post. I figured you’ve been wondering for a while now about the better half of this parenting operation and it’s high time I ended the suspense.
Besides, it is Father’s Day, after all.