Bad Parent Syndrome

I was catching up on my Daddy Blog reading today and I came across a recent post on Mommy With a Penis. As is often the case with this blog, he had me thinking "Damn straight!" while simultaneously trying to keep myself from collapsing on the floor, giggling uncontrollably. This particular post was the latest installment in a series of posts called Bad Mommy.

Specifically, it was about Bristol Palin and her baby appearing on a recent cover of People Magazine. I strongly recommend that you go read it for yourself, but suffice it to say that you can have a great game of "How Many Conflicting Messages Can You Find in This Picture?" There's also an extremely amusing note regarding color choices, but I'm not going to repeat it here as I've already compromised this blog's wholesome image by using the word "damn." (Uh, oh. Now I've used it twice).

The name "Bristol" reminded me of a website I found a few years back that also never fails to make me laugh: Baby's Named a Bad, Bad Thing (A Primer on Parent Cruelty). This hilarious site is a critique of recent trends in baby-naming, including the use of androgynous names, creating a name by melding together pieces of the parents' names, and the creation of baby names out of whole cloth in an attempt to give the child a "unique" name. Basically, the author went to a number of baby-naming sites and collected the worst (best?) examples of child cruelty which parents have engaged in via the process of naming their child. Among my favorites are:

1) We aren't having kids for another year or two, but we like Kellyna Nychole, Taryn Mykah and Mykenzie Kathryn for girls.
This woman was indicted under the Flagrant Over-Use of the Letters K and Y Act of 1983.

2) i have a 20-year old son named case mitchell and an 18-year old daughter named cheyenne autumn. my daughter has some of the most beautiful red hair in the world so her name fits her to a tee.
Not only does she have beautiful red hair, Cheyenne Autumn stars James Stewart and Richard Widmark and is regarded by many critics to be John Ford's most cynical of his later Westerns. She runs 2 hours, 35 minutes and is available on VHS.

3) This is for my niece, Dawn. She is expecting a baby girl in September. I suggested that they name her Dusk. What does everyone think?
I think her grand-daughter Nighttime would not approve. Or her grand-nieces Afterhours and Graveyardshift.

4) I've suggested to my sister that she name her little girl to be - Manchester. She's not sure about it but she's considering. What do you think?
Clever. Like being named Pittsburg or Schenectady. Kid'll grow up to be beaten to death by Liverpool fans.

There are many, many others. Go take a break from your kids and enjoy!

(And revel in the knowledge that no matter how sure you are that you've failed your child in some major, life-altering fashion you couldn't possibly have done anything as bad to them as the damage that these parents inflicted on their poor, unsuspecting children).

What Type of Parent Are You?

I recently found this test at a mommy blog. I did, however, feel compelled to try and re-brand it as a Prent Test. Yeah, I know;It didn't work. And, yes, I also know it's a corporate gimmick from Verizon. I thought it was cute anyway. (Probably because it said I was a "Terrific Teach" type).

So what do the rest of you get?


T-Mobile Mom to Mom Quiz: "

Take the fun, Mom to Mom quiz and discover your parenting style.

A Parent's Perspective

LR has always had a great ear (naming instruments used in a song, getting word pronunciations in English and in other languages exactly right, etc.), and he's always enjoyed making music. But up until very recently he refused to sing or play music in unison with anyone else, nor did he ever show any real interest in trying to play a tune with any of his instruments. Now, I never expected anything elaborate nor do I even know that other three-year-olds like to do so; I'm just saying he never did it.

So, I was very pleasantly surprised the other day when he began playing Frère Jacques the other day on his rhythm sticks. I was particularly impressed that I recognized it without him having to tell me what it was. We played it together for a while and he just kept improving. Of course, once Mommy got home he was no longer interested in showing off. At least, not right then.

The next morning, a weekend, my wife was awakened by the lovely sound of our son playing a recognizable version of Frère Jacques.....on his cymbals. Once she calmed down from her three-foot jump into the air, she told him what a great job he was doing (what a trooper). Like any good mother, she promptly told a number of friends about his accomplishment. One of these friends, obviously a parent of young ones herself, quickly wrote back and got right to the heart of the matter:

"What in the world could you possibly have done to someone that ticked them off enough that they gave your son cymbals?!?"

The Things We Do

Well, the poor Munchkin's sick. I've had a cold since the end of last week and apparently he caught it. (Although it probably came home with him in that petri dish they call a preschool). Last night he began tugging at his ear and told me it was hurting. Of course, this was about two minutes after the doctor's office closes. He was up most of the night crying on and off despite some attempts on our part to help with Tylenol. At least he got to sleep in Mommy & Daddy's bed.

Went to the doctor yesterday. Normally, this would be ample cause for major anxiety on the part of both parent and child. Luckily, our pediatrician is so incredibly good with him that he actually likes going to see her. No really! As far as he's concerned, a trip to the doctor means pushing elevator buttons, playing with a cool toy in the waiting room, getting read a story and playing with nifty crinkly-paper on the examining table before the doctor comes in, and then getting to play with the doctor. Granted, he hasn't gotten a shot from this doctor's office yet and his viewpoint may change quickly and drastically when he does, but in the meantime I'm definitely counting my blessings.

Anyway, the Munchkin has a "moderate" ear infection (I guess that doesn't sound too bad). He got a panda sticker and an antibiotic. In the past, the couple of times he's needed an antibiotic it's always been Amoxicillin. This usually comes pre-made with what they claim is a cherry flavor but which tasted like used bubblegum to me. No matter, LR loves the stuff calling it "Yummy Amoxicillin." (Yes, he really can routinely get out five-syllable words perfectly clearly and without hesitation).

This time the doctor wanted him to have something a bit stronger. The fact that this new stuff was only one dose per day and didn't need to be refrigerated made it an instant hit with Mommy and Daddy. Unfortunately, this time it came pre-made in what was apparently a not-so-yummy berry flavor. It took a trip back to the pharmacy for a pseudo-cherry flavor, a few drops of food coloring from Mommy in order to match the color of Amoxicillin, and then two hours of coaxing in order to actually get the dose into the sick child. In fact, I was reduced to telling him that this really was Amoxicillin; "Can't you tell from the color and the taste, sweetheart?" This from the Daddy who is constantly reassuring his son with "LR, you know I don't tell you things that aren't true."

But I'm going to have to leave the angst and the guilt for another day. Right now, I haven't slept since Monday night and all I know is that between some judiciously-timed Tylenol and some fabricated Amoxicillin my son is out cold and he's even in his own bed. I intend to enjoy it.