How to Survive Parenthood

Is that even possible? I assume it is because my parents survived parenthood. But that was 30-40 years ago. Plus my brother and I were easy kids to raise (with myself being the easier of the two, of course). Parenting has changed over the millions of years parents have graced the Earth. Dinosaurs could always eat their young if they misbehaved. That’s not really an option for us. So exactly, how does one survive parenthood?

Profanity

Lots and lots of profanity. Whether you allow your kids to hear your colorful language or it’s muttered under your breath as they walk away, it helps relieve the tension that built up while you argued with your politician. When your kid has an answer for EVERYTHING a few swear words will release the stress. When your kids insists that numbers less than zero are negative but numbers less than negative ten are megative and refuses any correction, you’re best bet is to send him away and give him a couple middle fingers while his back is turned.

Dates

Not the fruity kind. Though, enough of those will allow you to frequently use the bathroom where you can hopefully lock the door and keep unwanted guests away with the smell of not using Poo Pourri. These dates are the loving kind. The kidless kind. The do-whatever-you-can-do kind. Perhaps you have a late supper after putting the kids to bed. Being free to make any child unfriendly meal you want is as sweet as bedtime itself. Perhaps you can get a sitter for a couple hours to go out. Perhaps you can send the kids for sleepovers and make a night of it. Perhaps you just snuggle up and snack and watch a movie or binge watch the latest show that has course language and violence and parental supervision is required. Whatever you do, do it well and do it with love. And wine.

Wine

I know this one isn’t for everyone. I’ve heard some of you abstain from alcohol. You are the tough ones and I admire your courage. Mind you, we don’t celebrate “The Kids Are Asleep” every night with wine. Lately, we’ve only been celebrating every other weekend. We each have our favorite and we each know what they are so we can resupply when necessary. That’s true love.

Laughter

If you can’t laugh with or at each other, what can you do? That time I stepped on a toy, picked my foot up and put back down on a different toy, then nearly took a header through the wall? DW laughed so hard tears ran down her leg. That time I was backing out of the driveway and DW took a drink from her water bottle and I slammed on the brakes so she’d soak herself? Sure I called an asshole. But when the 4 year old in the backseat piped up with “Yeah, dad. Don’t be an asshole.” Then the 8 year old chimed in with “Great! Now you’ve got him saying asshole.” Or that time I told DW the Washington Capitals won the Stanley Cup and it was the first time my home team won it. She asked, “How you know it’s not Washington State?” Because they’re they Capitals? Maybe? Laugh. Laugh often and laugh loud.

Do whatever you have to do

It’s survival of the fittest. Adapt or get run over by life, also known as kids. You do whatever you need to do to survive your kids. Kick them outside. Allow them extra time in front of a screen. Give them an extra snack be it healthy or junk. Let them tromp through the mud, play in the sink, jump on the bed, cut their own hair. If it allows you a minute and a half to cook supper in peace, poop in peace, write a blog post in peace, anything in peace, let it happen. Make it happen. Or else the profanity will hit the fan.

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J is for… #atozchallenge

Who doesn’t love a good dad joke? Or bad one? The term “dad joke” has become synonymous with any joke so bad, so lame, the best reaction you can hope for is an eye roll. Most them are just punny.

I was hoping my 10 jokes would make people laugh, but no pun in ten did.

You need a sense of humor if you’re going to be a parent. How else will you survive your kids? Between the things kids do and the things they say, we’ve got enough ammo to keep us laughing for years to come. So they got their head stuck in a concrete block when they were two. So they covered their little brother with the entire jar of peanut butter. So they loudly compare your anatomy to that of a model in the Body Worlds museum. I an guarantee Parenthood will be full of more laughter than your bladder can hold.

Me: Doctor, you’ve got to help me. I’m addicted to Twitter.
Doctor: I don’t follow you.

Q: When does a joke become a dad joke?
A: When the punch line becomes apparent.

The mother of three notoriously unruly youngsters was asked whether or not she’d have children if she had to do over again.
“Sure,” she replied, “but not the same ones.”

The dinner I was cooking for my family was going to be a surprise but the fire trucks ruined it.

Please go play with your brother. That’s basically the reason we had him.

I’ll clean my house when the last kid has moved out.

Q: What part of your family can you see through?
A: A transparent.

Have a good parenting pun/joke? I’d love to hear it! Happy hump day!

For more laughs you can follow me on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook.

Because Parenting is Funny

It’s Tuesday.

It’s a good day for a laugh. I hope one of these tickles your funny bone.

Some Parenting Funnies from the Internets

Parenting is hilarious. Or at least it has the potential to be. God knows what might come out of our children’s mouth. God knows what kind of mischief they will get into next. It’s a roulette wheel of possibilities. It’s a crap shoot (HAHA) of potential opportunities.

So, because it’s late, because my kids are in bed (one is still hacking and coughing), I’m here to lighten the mood, lift a few spirits, and remind you that you’re not alone in the struggle.

Bang was watching the men’s luge. They were zipping down the ice at 130 kph. He said he wants to do that. This is the same child who was scared of waterslides last summer.

Tonight, while Facetiming my parents I had one kid licking the iPad and the other putting his feet on my head.

WTH?

Did your kid make you laugh today?

How A Cookie Saved My Life

I was walking home from school today and as I passed the grocery store I thought to myself (though I really said it aloud) “I should pick something up for dessert.” So I picked up monster cookies. These cookies are store made, the size of a man’s hand, and loaded with tiny M&M’s. Soft. Chewy. 8 cookies per pack.

So I buy the cookies and continue walking home. At the corner of McDonald’s and the gas station I push the pedestrian crossing button. Now, you might not believe me, but it’s true, I swear. I pushed that button and hole opened in the sidewalk. I peered in and there was a man down there. He looked exactly like me! I hollered down to him, “Do you need help?” He just looked up at me. So I offered him one of my monster cookies. “Mon up and have a cookie” I told him. I knew he could smell it because his nose twitched. I took a step back holding out the cookie. Lo and behold, out of the hole he climbed. So I gave him a monster cookie just like I promised. I think he smiled, then he simply walked away.

Being a curious guy, I looked into the hole again. It was empty now, but it was only about 4 or 5 feet deep so I climbed in. It was a tunnel, not a hole! I crawled in a short way and I suddenly felt myself sliding down. The tube was smooth and I couldn’t stop myself. I must have slide for at least 27 minutes.

Once I stopped moving I thought I was deep under ground, but I was wrong. I was under water! Technically, I was inside a huge bubble under water. It was a city inhabited by frog people. Two of them wrapped me up with their long sticky tongues and led me away. They took me to who I believed to be their queen. I thought of kissing her to see if she’d turn into a princess, but I kept my lips to myself. Turns out she wanted to send me to the slave pits to smash clams. Then I remembered the cookies so I offered her one for my freedom. I knew she could smell them because she licked her green frog lips.

They kick me out of their city on a green submarine that was piloted by a pirate. I don’t know where the pirate came from or why he had a submarine. I forgot to ask. Now, I know pirates are known thieves and this one seemed as slippery as squid snot. He looked at me with his one good eye and said, “Aye matey. You’ll make a fine deck hand on my pirate ship.” I always thought it would be fun to go sailing and work on those big, tall ships. Argh, the pirate life is not for me. So I offer him a monster cookie to drop me off somewhere safe. Preferably home.

Apparently pirates don’t negotiate, but they do eat cookies. That pirate left me on a deserted island. I walked around the island to find a way off. No luck. Then I walk through the woods and what do I find there? A giant, silver, flying saucer. Well it wasn’t flying, it was landed. Once the aliens saw me, though, they took me aboard. I thought for sure I was going to be probed in parts that aren’t for probing. They buckled me into a seat instead. Then it became a flying saucer. They said we were going to their planet, Xorgon and I would be put in the human zoo. I told their leader that I had cookies and he (she? I couldn’t tell) could have one if they’d take me back to Earth.

Now we’re on our way back to Earth, so I was told, when we suddenly stop. Lights of all colors were bouncing off the walls. Turns out we were stopped by intergalactic police! I told the leader alien the best way to get out of getting a ticket is to flash some boob, before I realized she didn’t have any boobs. Anyway, they arrest me for smuggling humans, even though I was the human. I’m riding in the back to the police rocket and I say, “Excuse me, Officer, I have this delicious cookie you can have if you don’t put me in jail. Police are easy to bribe. They’ll do anything for a cookie.

I’m sitting in the police station of some far off planet when Chief tells me a taxi is coming. You should have seen the size of this rocket ship taxi!  I climb in the co-pilot’s seat and we take off for Earth. We were going so fast that if I had had hair it would have caught fire. This taxi driver was a maniac! “Slow down!” I shout. He laughs, his fat belly jiggles, and a button popped off his shirt. Fortunately, he slows down. “Give me a cookie,” he says, “Or we’ll go even faster.” I had no choice but to give him one.

The taxi drops me off on Earth. I could tell something was different but couldn’t quite place it until I heard a thunderous sound and felt the ground shake. I could only stand in awe as a 40 foot T-Rex approached. It roared a monstrous roar. I threw a monster cookie at it and took off running. Then I saw a shimmery blue oval hovering in front of me, like a wall. With a terrible lizard wanting the rest of my cookies I had no choice but to jump in.

I found myself in a dark room. It smelled of dirt, felt like rock and was too short for me to stand up in. So I sat in my dark room and ate the last monster cookie. I must have sat there for at least 27 minutes when suddenly a bright light shone down on me. I squinted and looked up. “Do you need help?” I heard someone ask. I couldn’t see him because of the bright sunlight in my eyes. “Mon up and have a cookie,” I heard him say. The cookie smelled so good it made my nose twitchy. So I carefully climbed up out of the hole, took the cookie, smiled and walked home.

And this, kids, is why there is only one cookie left.

For A Good Laugh

Q: Where does a pirate go to drink?
A: A baaaargh
Q: What do pirates see in the night sky?
A: A Staaaargh
Q: What do pirates drive?
A: (not a caaaargh) A boat

Q: How much does it cost a pirate to get a piercing?
A: A buckaneer

I’m Sorry World

I’m sure you’ve all heard of climate change, formerly known as global warming. It’s causing glaciers and the polar ice caps to melt which causes the ocean levels to rise and the polar bears to lose their habitat. Without the ice to reflect the sunlight, the dark waters absorb more heat and thereby warms the Earth even faster. This heat difference also causes more extreme weathers – hotter summers and colder winters and severe weather, like hurricanes, are worsened by the effects of climate change. 

And it’s all my fault.

Not mine directly, but my offspring. My offspring are killing the polar bears. Both of them as a matter of fact. What the hell is it with doors and lights? They have no trouble turning the light on when they enter a room. Yet, when they leave, through the exact same God damn door, they don’t bother to flick the switch down to turn the light off. The lights are on but noboby’s home. They love to burn light bulbs for the frickin’ dust bunnies. And because they don’t clean their rooms, there are plenty of those hopping around. All that energy just being wasted like we’ve got nothing better to spend our money on than the electricity to light up a room nobody is in. All that energy created by the power company who, I’m pretty sure I can hear laughing in the night, is laughing at me. They’re getting rich off me because my kids don’t know how to flick the switch a second time. They’re burning more and more CO2 emitting coal to light all the rooms nobody is in. 

Then there are the doors to enter and exit the house. Like the switches they can flick up to turn on a light yet can’t flick down to turn the light off, they can open a door to get out of it, but can’t close it behind them. All of our nice, warm, cozy inside air wanders right out the door like a wayward teen. They can’t close it when they leave the house. They can’t close it when they enter the house. I have seen them exit by way of the back door and then immediately enter through the front door and leave both of them swinging wide open like a barn door a bull busted off the hinges. In JANUARY! I don’t like to be stereotypical, but if the only thing you know about Canada, is that it gets cold enough in winter to make Hoth look like a tropical resort. So because of my leave-the-door-flapping-in-the-freezy-breeze kids, the Earth is warming uncontrollably. 

I’m sorry Earth.

Note: In Bang’s defence, he is significantly better at turning lights off when he leaves the room. The door is just as much a problem for both of them.

Close the door!

Sunday Share LOL

I really do believe that laughter is the best medicine. Like that time DW and I had gone shoe shopping for her. Her feet were as swollen as her 8 month pregnant belly. She was my little punch buggy. In need of larger shoes, we hit up the mall. Shoe store after shoe store after whatever store might have sneakers (tennis shoes, running shoes, whatever you call ’em shoes) turned up nothing. Now her feet were sore, we were getting tired as we had gone one evening after school. All of this adds up to one cranky, pregnant lady. Finally, we were in Payless or something, DW was sucking on a hard candy and as she bent to try on her millionth pair of shoes she drooled. Laughing at a pregnant, cranky lady can be hazardous to one’s health. Fatal even. I tempted fate and I laughed at my drooling wife. She laughed, too. The laughter caused someone to fart which caused us to both laugh harder. Laughing harder almost caused pregnant wife who had a baby sitting on her bladder to almost pee her pants. This made us laugh even harder.

I don’t remember if she got shoes that night.

So, if you’re like me and are in need of a good laugh… here you go…

Return of the Modern Philosopher
Here’s another chat with Lucifer himself. Hell is a red state indeed.

Ah Dad
Not just another day at the gym.

Sheila Moss
Men, women… what’s the difference?

Anxious Mom
Candy causing another fit of laughter

You the Daddy
Laughing through pregnancy. I wish I would have seen this when DW was pregnant…

Lastly is my latest YouTube video. I pieced together our hike to a waterfall (not Uisge Ban, but just as inpiring) yesterday. It’s certainly not the most exciting thing to do with a GoPro, but it was fun…

Sink Soup

We’ve all done dumb shit before. Some of us have done dumber shit than others. Like that time I got my “stuck” in a cinder block. My excuse was I was only 2. In my defence, it wasn’t really stuck. My ears would roll and scrape against the block. That hurt. So my dad held my ears against my head so I could pull my head right out. I don’t know why I put in there. I must have stumbled and fell into it.

Then there was that time I was flying to Canada to see my then girlfriend, now DW and I forgot my birth certificate. This was before the days of when passports were required. My parents were kind enough to leave home at 4:30 am to bring it to me and I still made my flight.

Then there was that time DW and I were meeting my parents in DC to go to a Great Big Sea concert. I had ordered our tickets online and had put them on the fridge so I could just grab them as we walked out the door and not forget them. I forgot them. Fortunately, they could use the credit card I had paid with to track down our tickets and still get in.

Then there was the time two years ago that we celebrated American Thanksgiving here in Canada. We had family over. It was great. That weekend, right after breakfast, I put everything that was left on the turkey into a pot to boil the meat off the bones. Then we set off decorating the house for Christmas. The lights went up, the tree went up, Woody and Elfis (our elves on the shelves) were set to return. Six hours later I finally got back around to the turkey.

I put a colander in the sink to dump the turkey into so I could pick it all off the bones. Then DW comes out to see what I’m doing and asks “Where’s all the broth?”. I knew at that exact moment that I had forgotten to put a pot under the colander to catch the broth when I dumped the turkey. Six hours of broth making just went down the drain. Literally. Now, at every Thanksgiving, twice a year for us, we sit and laugh about the time I made “Sink Soup”.

We’ve all done stupid shit. Some of us just happen to have a longer rap sheet than others. Does any wonder where my two sons get it from? Nope. No one wonders for a second.