Man, do I have some funny stories. Real zingers, I tell you. But I think I have to keep these to myself.
There is no better fodder for a parenting blog than the exploits of babies and toddlers. (Except of course for public breastfeeding scandal. That’ll drive your numbers up better than any laundry detergent giveaway.) Babies are funny and tragic all at once. They are cute! The first couple years are really all about parents trying to keep sane and support each other.
And that is why I keeping having babies.
Okay, no, not really. But it’s getting harder and harder to write about my almost-six year old. Even if the anecdotes don’t embarrass him today, they might later, after some Google name searching unearths my entire archive. In fact, I think using my kids’ real names helps to keep me honest in that regard. As long as I’m writing under my own real name (which my ego keeps insisting on) then pseudonyms are a pretty thin veil.
And while nobody love self-deprecating humour more than me — really, it’s almost all I do — it only extends to your kids up to a certain point. I could totally dig a funny story about a giant-sized 12 month old who just sits in one place while his peers run circles around him, for example. A story about a 12 year old who places last in every athletic competition can’t really be funny, however, without also sounding kind of mean. I think.
So I write about the baby and about my own ineptitude and it’s all well and good. But Colum and Irene are such a huge part of my experience of parenting. Dudes, the job doesn’t end when they start kindergarten. I know! Why don’t they tell you that in the starter guide?! There’s so much more to talk about beyond breastfeeding and babyproofing, but I’m having a really hard time figuring out how.
Help? Any and all ideas would be more than welcome.