Part 11 of the 323 part series.
Song: Sweet Child O’ Mine
Artist: Guns N’ Roses
I promise to try to make a blog about my kid entertaining and humorous without resulting in me sleeping on the floor next to the couch if my wife reads it. (I assume she wouldn’t even let me sleep on the couch if it’s overly insulting.) So come for the mediocre writing and stay for the cute kid video at the end.
I’ve been a proud parent for a little over a year now. Yes, my son’s two, but for the first eight months, he didn’t do a lot in that first year to be proud of. Oh sure, he rolled over. My dog can do that. Well, not my dog because she’s dumber than a sack of hammers, but other people’s dogs can do that. Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never actually met anyone who had their dog trained to the point he or she would roll over on command. Granted, our dog manages to not poop in the house while the kid still poops in his pants (ok, sometimes his dad does too). But I love him just the same.
I know I’m far from the perfect parent, but I’d like to think I’ve learned a little about this parenting thing in 27 months. Here’s just a few of the things I’ve learned:
- Beiber Fever is not a recognized medical illness and calling your sister-in-law/nurse at work to figure out what to do will result in her ignoring your calls.
- Just because the only cure for Bruce Dickenson’s fever is more cowbell doesn’t mean more cowbell cures all fevers. It also angers your significant other when you try that remedy at 2:30 a.m.
- Being made mostly of cartilage does not mean babies bounce.
- Riding the dog like a horse is not only not frowned up in this establishment, but actively encouraged.
- I’m fairly certain the leading cause of insanity among parents of children under five is children’s music.
- I don’t know how parents used television to babysit their kids before the advent of DVR’s and streaming Netflix.
- The best time to send your kid to see your wife is when he’s got a poppy diaper.
- Exposing your child to Colin Cowherd is grounds for child abuse charges in North Carolina.
Sure, there are sacrifices that have to be made with the little guy. I’d love to be able to spend my autumn Saturdays watching football from noon until midnight or go a day without having to sing a song about some bus and what it does all through the town. I’d be happy to be able to watch Family Guy reruns while he’s awake, but Yes Dear frowns upon that. Just because Stewie wants to kill Lois doesn’t mean my kid wants to kill my wife. (But now that I think about it, Stewie does a great job of keeping his plans secret from the rest of the family, so maybe she’s right in not wanting to give the little guy any ideas.)
Despite the sacrifices, I do get the benefit of shaping and molding the next generation (or passing that responsibility on to Steve, Mailbox and the rest of the gang at Blue’s Clues). I hope the next generation has a need for sabrmetrics, pedestrian blogs and reruns of Bones on Netflix. If not, I may be starting him off on the wrong foot.
Pardon the shameless video of my kid. (I warned you at the beginning of this there was a cute kid video at the end, much like the monster was at the end of that book.)
Next Song: With or Without You