Parenting is hard

It's St. Patrick's day. In 1984, my oldest child was born. I remember checking into the hospital and the nurse saying I would be having a ┬áSt. Patrick's day baby and in honor of that, they would be tattooing a shamrock on the baby's butt. Whether my serious expression was primarily fear of this whole…

The hopelessly un-cool parental unit

Over the weekend I received an email from a good friend. While she lives locally and is definitely close enough to meet for coffee, we only do so about once or twice a month. She works swing shift, weekends, and holidays which makes scheduling an absolute priority for getting together. So we chat on the…