On hiatus is code for “I’m hiding”

Shit happens.  Life gets crazy….Or terrifying….Or a combination of both.


I had a kid.  He’s 11 months old now and rules my life.  I spent the first 6 months of his life learning how to put on a diaper and how to sneak naps in while standing up.  Being a parent is hard.  Fucking mind-numbingly hard.   I have been shit on, puked on, peed on, and sneezed on all in the matter of 10 minutes.   I laughed, because you have to.  That is the only way you will survive.  Laughter combined with alcohol.   So I have been avoiding everything for a ridiculously large number of weeks.  Writing was included in this list.  Hi, I’ve missed you.


Avoidance is something I have learned through familial observation.  I have 30 years of anecdotal evidence proving avoidance is the best option.  My parents have spent the last 31 years avoiding almost everything, especially confrontation and the basic heart to hearts.  This sucks and is awesome in equal measure.  The sucky parts consisted of my parents fighting like cats and dogs my whole childhood because they couldn’t actually confront an issue face to face.   Instead, I would lock myself in my bedroom and listen to them try to win an argument with shear volume.  Winning by “outlouding” the other person was almost an Olympic sport in our house.   The not so sucky parts consisted of me never having to have the awkward heart to heart talks that every kid tries to avoid.  The nightly news would come on during dinner and the topic would be “Teen Sex… Pregnant by 14!!”  My mom would look at me, nod like she was a B-list rapper trying to make a drug deal, and assume I knew she was psychically telling me “If you get pregnant, I will kill you”.  I would shrug and continue eating my meatloaf.


On the opposite end of the spectrum, I cannot wait to have the embarrassing heart to hearts with my son.  Why?  Well, because the idea of possibly making my child uncomfortable gets me so excited I can’t sit still.  I giggle at the thought of showing his prom date pictures of his naked tiny ass in the bathtub.  Every time I take a photo, I think “will this make for good blackmail?”  In our house, you better have a sense of humor, a sharp tongue, and quick comeback.   We are hoping to encourage through his early childhood so we can use inappropriate joking as a form of family bonding.  All’s fair in love and sarcasm.