Tag Archives: parenting


I’ve been thinking a bit about kids this week. The reason is evident in my afternoons: I’ve been taking care of a couple of extra kids. Suddenly I find myself the ‘father’ of 3 and let me tell you, it is a lot of extra work. It may only be a couple hours a day, but those hours seem to generate an unending pile of dirty dishes and empty my pantry of all the snackables. As lovely as these two extra girls are, they leave me quite sure that one is enough.
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breadI was in the grocery store the other day. I was buying a few things and getting lunch, enjoying the freedom of being on my own while the boy is in school, when it hit me: my kid is kind of great and I’m a pretty okay parent. I should probably back up a little and explain how I got to that conclusion, so I will start with a screaming child. Not just a child who screams, but a child in the midst of a full-blown nuclear armageddon melt down screaming fit.

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It has been a few months since I gave up my glamorous job in the book mines and became a hausmann. The honeymoon period is ending now and I find myself settling into the domestic routine of cleaning and cooking and parenting. A strange place to find myself, but I like it here more every day. There are new skills to develop and opportunities to distill my passions into more powerful spirits.

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hero_coreToday was a busy day. I think that I have finally started to cast off the shroud of fatigue left over from my life as a working stiff and started to transform into a productive hausmann. I took old clothes to Goodwill. I sold some board games that I haven’t played in years. We did our daily swimming lessons and such. Productivity abounded, but most important, I rescued a lost Lego piece.

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Spring Effin’ Break

I’ve just spent the last six days with my offspring. He’s a wonderful little man and we often get along just fine, but it rained most of the week so that we only left the house twice during those six days. That’s right, we were locked inside fortress Portmandia together for the better part of a week. I’m not sure how I managed it without drink, and only time will reveal the enormity of the coming therapy bills for the boy’s PTSD.

Continue reading Spring Effin’ Break