Parenting Notes #151-200

Here’s some honest and funny parenting advice about raising young kids.

Raising young kids is much like playing golf.

A golfer can take 100 bad swings, and when all hope is lost, he nails that one perfect shot. This gets him through the next 100 awful shots.

The same rule applies to a parent. A parent can make countless mistakes and the kids can be intolerable.

Until that one moment that makes it all worthwhile.

Another similarity between parenting and golf — there’s a ton of cursing involved.

Parenting Tip #151

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Parenting Tip #152

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Parenting Tip #153

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Parenting Tip #154

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Parenting Tip #155

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Parenting Tip #156

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Parenting Tip #157

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Parenting Tip #158

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Parenting Tip #159

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Parenting Tip #160

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Parenting Tip #161

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Parenting Tip #162

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Parenting Tip #163

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Parenting Tip #164

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Parenting Tip #165

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Parenting Tip #166

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Parenting Tip #167

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Parenting Tip #168

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This quote, from General George Patton, is written in bold Sharpie on an index card tacked to the bulletin board in my office. The board hangs next to the computer I work on all day.

Writing is the only career where you hear “no thanks” more often than a hooker with visible cold sores. That’s a joke, some men will screw anything, cold sores be damned. The intention of the quote was a motivation for every time I heard no from an editor, every time I slammed into writer’s block with my face or any other occasion when my profession punched me around.

The words of General Patton would inspire a man who could never serve in the military because of a rare disorder that causes him to cry in pressure situations and Swiffer commercials. Oh my crap, she finished all her housework and can now read a book! Celebrate sister!

A funny thing about the quote I tend to stare at it more when things don’t go right with my kid. Probably because every time the crap hits the fan with parenting (figuratively he hasn’t thrown shit at a fan yet but he’s got a weak throwing arm), I cower in my office pretending to work until everything blows over.

Is he done with his tantrum? No? Well, I’ll be in here [bangs keyboard with the back of his wrists] Deadlines! Deadlines!

My philosophy in life before the kid was simple. I didn’t take chances because there is less of a chance of screwing up. It’s easy to have a high rate of success if you never make an attempt at the truly difficult in life.

For example, I’ve never belly-flopped off of a diving board because I’ve never attempted a dive off anything higher than the side of the pool. No thanks, I’ll be over here, lowering myself down by the metal steps and holding my nose just in case. OH, it’s SO COLD!

Parenting is a risk. From the moment she pees on the stick and gives the thumbs up until he’s old enough to walk out the front door for good, I’m going to be taking huge gambles. I’m going to gamble with the way I raise him, the things I teach him and every other decision that impacts his life. It’s just the way this job goes and I’ve got no choice.

I finally accepted all this as fact and started making the tough calls as a father should.

I’m going to screw up. I’m going to make mistakes. I’m gonna fall. He is gonna fall (though if he falls any more he’ll need a helmet and three layers of protective snowsuits until the age of 30).

We are both going to bounce back up. How high we bounce depends on what kind of man I am and how good I am at teaching him to bounce right back up. He’s going to dive off the highest board at the pool, even if it will kill me to watch.

How the hell am I supposed to hold my nose and cover my eyes at the same time?