Parenting Flowchart: “Do I have to go to this stupid thing at my daughter’s school?”

It’s time for another Before I Had Kids flowchart!

It seems there’s always another activity, always another event – how is a modern, time-pressured parent to determine whether it’s necessary to attend? Consult this handy flowchart and wonder no more!

Click image to enlarge.

Do I Have to Attend this Stupid thing at my Daughter's School?

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Funny Parenting Tweets, Volume Two

Yep, it’s time for more funny parenting tweets!

This week’s featured twitter superstar is the quirky and funny Paul Gude – follow him @sgnp

Couldn’t get my daughter to drink smoothies, so I make one a little thicker, put it in bowl, and called it “breakfast ice cream.” It worked.

- “This is my daughter, Betty.” “Is Betty short for anything?” “It depends on perspective. I mean…short for a kid, but tall for a rabbit.”

Parents? Feel like the thrill is gone from your life? Try pushing your kid on the swing with your eyes closed. Also, probably don’t do this.

My kid just asked me, “Who invented trees?” and “Do flowers have friends?” “Tesla” and “Nope, only enemies,” respectively.

I’ve introduced the idea of kryptonite to my daughter so I can take tiny naps when we play Justice League.

After the cookie dough was made, my daughter said, “We shouldn’t even bake this.” I nearly wept. #prodigy

Wife: Dammit! 5-Year-Old: Do you mean, “Rats?” My Wife: Sure. This game is stupid. 5-Year-Old: You mean, “Hard?” Wife: Stop laughing, Paul.

Playing with puppets in my daughter’s room. She’s here, too, so that makes it better.

Me: Who’s a funny kid? Betty: Me? Me: Yup. Betty: You know who’s a funny grown-up? Me: Me? Betty: Actually, I was thinking of Mr. Noodle.

- A cynical observer would say I’m not so much “teaching my daughter to catch a Cheerio in her mouth” as “throwing Cheerios at her face.”

It’s like Memento, only I’m in the kitchen struggling not to forget I’m getting a rag to clean maple syrup off the living room floor.

Major bummer for our household today, “Pile of Nerds” on floor turned out to be a smashed Froot Loop. Both father and daughter disappointed.

- I think the most foolproof way to get my daughter to not eat ants is to spend 45 minutes preparing them for her.

Either my wife’s started leaving me great meals in the fridge or I keep stealing her lunch. Regardless, I’m pretty happy.

Betty: Why’s Jar Jar doing that? Me: He stepped in poop. Betty: Somebody pooped? Who was it? Me: George Lucas

“Honey, he won’t let you play on the firetruck because he’s a bully. When we get home I’ll help you make an angry blog post.” #answers4kids

Outsmarted. By a 5 year old. (Again.)

I’m not quite sure how she manages it, but for the past two nights our little girl has been pulling one over on us.

For a year or so, she’s often been waking up early, and then coming in to our room, waking us up and asking if she can get into our bed and sleep with us.

I wouldn’t really mind except that we don’t have a king-sized bed and I’m not sure if you’re aware or not but five year olds in your bed FIDGET LIKE LITTLE METHED-UP GOPHERS.  Foot in the back, elbow in the ribs, finger in the eye . . . she’s the only one who gets any sleep whatsoever in this situation.

So we decided to institute a ‘no children in Mommy and Daddy’s bed before 7:00′ policy.  To facilitate said policy, we got Maddy an alarm clock and told her that she is not allowed to come in to Mommy and Daddy’s room until her clock says “seven first.”

This worked great!

For about 9 consecutive days, I was awakened by a little girl asking to get into our bed at PRECISELY seven o’clock.  I can only assume that she was waking up at 6 then for a full hour just staring desperately, unblinkingly, at those little digital numbers, concentrating and willing them to change to seven first.  I can’t imagine how long and horrifying that first morning must have been for her, what with her not knowing how many minutes there are in an hour.

Then she started sleeping in until almost 8:00 and it was omigodsofrickinawesome.

(Naturally, that didn’t last.)

But the past two nights?  The past two nights, that little monkey has been coming in to our room, quietly and carefully creeping up the end of the bed, and silently sneaking into our bed between us, delicately getting under the covers without waking either of us up, and going to sleep in our bed in between us.

What time of the night/morning has she been doing this?  I have no idea because she’s been so quiet and still, but let me tell you, it’s more than a bit disconcerting to wake up and have an EXTRA HUMAN BEING in your bed.

I mean, when you roll over and see a person other than the one you were expecting in the bed next to you, it can be pretty jarring.

(Thankfully it almost always turns out to be someone I know).

Feedback

Before I had kids I had no idea how much I suck.

Hearing your child parrot back to you the things that you say (as interpreted by a three year old, of course) has got to be one of the most soul-crushing things ever.

Basically, it’s one long string of Things Your Parents Said To You When You Were a Child, All of Which You Swore Never to Say to Your Own Kids.

Stupid parents. 

Oh wait . . .