She’ll be tough, but he’ll always have the tum tum.
Tag Archives: parenting
That’s MY Job
I need this guy out of office before I have children.
Because if my future kid is going to prematurely learn the words “pussy” and “shithole,” it’s going to be from me, goddamnit.
Don’t you dare take that away from me.
Literal Shit Show
Steph went to retrieve my nephew after his nap, and encountered him with poop all over his hands. Seems he woke up early, got bored, and found a way to entertain himself.
Kid is nothing if not resourceful.
(After Steph sends photo….)
Ebola Mom, Part 78
(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
Ummm…about what? Fun? Culture? The world? LIFE OUTSIDE YOUR BATSHIT GRIP?!
Upper East Side Standards
Before my first session with a new client…
Parent (to her kid): “I want you to listen to everything Miss Emily says, because she went to Penn, and if you listen to her, one day you can go to a school like that, too. Wouldn’t that be so great?”
Kid: (blank stare)
BECAUSE HE’S THREE.
Ebola Mom, Part 77
Well There Goes the Blog
Dad: “You can’t post things that are going to make me worry.”
Family Planning, Part 2
(Related to Family Planning )
Eric just learned that his company offers paid paternity leave. This, naturally, lead to a serious, contemplative discussion about parenthood.
(No, I’m not pregnant).
We’re obviously kidding, relax.
They’ll be a soccer team.
I hate football.
That is BRAND NEW INFORMATION
On the phone with my mom…
Mom: “So I guess Dad and I are never getting our car back, huh?”
Me: “Ummm, incorrect. I sent Dad an entire email detailing how Zack is going to drive it back to Maryland next weekend.”
Mom: “Oh, Dad didn’t tell me.”
Me: “Shocking.”
Mom: “Well, next time you email information like that, just include me on it, because Dad doesn’t tell me anything.”
Me: “Ok.”
Mom: “Actually, you know. There’s a secret way you can include me on the email, so he can’t even see.”
Me: “There IS?!?!?”
Mom: “Yes it’s called a blind copy.”
Oh I See What You Did There
Parent of student: “Why isn’t her math improving more?!”
Me (aloud): “Progress takes time.”
Me (internally): “Little do you know, ‘Progress takes time’ is just my vague, polite, professional code for GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK, LADY– I see your kid one hour a week. If she doesn’t put in the effort between sessions, well…I’M NOT A GODDAMN WIZARD.”
Me: “Why aren’t I improving more?!”
Therapist: “Progress takes time.”
Emily's Posts 