Dad for Beginners

Amateurism at its best

April 23, 2014
by Creed

The Problem of Manhood

Being a man is hard. However, when it comes to pitying the sexes, women usually receive all the sympathy simply because they are expected to endure scheduled hardships periodically throughout their lives. Women have to go through an arguably more awkward puberty than men. They have to tolerate their monthly vaginal bleeding. In most societies, they are expected to bear children. At a certain age, they will all undergo the physical change from fertile lady to dried up old broad. More importantly, many are also expected to tolerate men for much of their lives in various forms which leads to mental instability and emotional turmoil. Yes, women have it rough. However, simply being a woman makes many of these fates inevitable. It is part of being a woman.

Manhood, on the other hand, is significantly harder for several reasons. Unbeknownst to much of the world’s female population, the suffering of manhood is predicated on the very being that receives all the sympathy votes: a woman. What’s unique about men, is that we are better equipped to cope with suffering. A man will live his entire life in a silent state of personal anarchy because he is a man. By cleaving to his own masculinity, men are inherently outfitted with a special skill set that masks their eternal suffering. When you see two married men give each other a slight head nod in public, they are basically saying, “I share your burden, brother,” as they both silently persevere through their endlessly painful existences.


Shirtlessness and warfare are ways men can strengthen their interpersonal relationships. The battlefield is no place for topless females.

In order to properly shed light on the never ending hardships of manhood, we need to examine the hardships of a woman point-by-point, since women are truly the root cause of all male misery. 

  1. Puberty – Women are noticeably awkward as they change from girls into ladies. The physical changes alone cause a woman great discomfort, as their body morphs from something resembling a praying mantis into something resembling an artfully crafted snowman. As a girl grows into a woman, she experiences not just the obvious changes like menstruation but the less obvious ones as well, like how she perceives her own body which is unfortunately influenced by how the males around her perceive her changing body as well. Women typically go through puberty earlier than men. For young boys, this is an extremely intimidating time. Imagine the fear of approaching a person you’ve targeted in a bar or some social event. The anxiety that overcomes the entirety of your existence. Encapsulated momentarily within your cells…freezing you in your seat. That feeling. That intense anxiety is what boys going through puberty endure every single day. As the female folk around you mature seemingly overnight and emerge from their cocoons as full-fledged woman, the boy who’s still a boy watches helplessly, waiting for that first sprig of pubic hair to emerge like a frightened gopher on a golf course. Waiting for his voice to not sound like he’s huffing helium. Waiting. This is the first instance in a man’s life when he experiences powerlessness. It crushes his soul yet prepares him emotionally for what will assuredly be a lifetime of emptiness in manhood.
  2. Menstruation – A woman has to endure at least half a lifetime of monthly bleeding. It’s unfortunate. However, women like to hang this over men. They like to use their physiology against men. It is certainly not a man’s fault that the female body was constructed in such a way. But any man who’s dealt with a menstruating woman on multiple occasions knows that the male species actually suffers far worse. A menstruating woman indicates several things to a man. Most importantly, that you succeeded in NOT planting your seed for another month. However, it also means that at any moment, you could be the victim of a verbal and physical onslaught which may or may not include various weaponry directed towards you. What’s more perplexing, is that just moments after you’ve escaped certain death, you could be expected to act as an emotional confidant or proverbial shoulder-to-cry-on lest you again become the target of another armed attack. Even more vexing yet, is that the very same woman who went most of the month not wanting to sex you up, will now throw herself at you with the unbridled randy-ness of a drunken sorority sister. Tread lightly men, and use one of the darker colored bathroom towels.
  3. Childbirth – Yet again we have another phenomena reserved exclusively for the female kind: childbirth. Women are expected in most societies to produce children. It is the number one way we humans keep the human species in existence. However, dealing with a pregnant woman features all the awkwardness of puberty combined with all the schizophrenic rage of menstruation. It is the perfect storm for male anguish. Being a man involved with a pregnant woman means that you’re not only on-call to her whimsy, but it ultimately gets chalked up to the unborn fetus inside her, driving her haphazard emotions. Women have an escape valve when it comes to pregnancy, because despite all the psychotic rage, depressed crying, rampant horniness, and intense illness, they are never at fault because they have something growing inside them and thus justifying their behavior. Men, however, do not have this method of escape. Instead, we cater willingly to the pregnant woman using the guise of “womb service” all with a smile on our face, all the while wishing that a supernatural lightning bolt would incinerate the entire house with the force of a thousand suns. The best and worst part about pregnancy is that it is temporary. For all men, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. That light, unfortunately, is merely a mirage in the barren desert of the male life, as ultimately what emerges from the womb will only serve to exacerbate our already troubled existence. Spoiler alert men, it is a baby that will come out. She’s not giving birth to a 6-pack and a plate of nachos.
  4. Menopause – As a woman ages, she undergoes yet another physical metamorphosis as she transforms from a woman into an antique. Women experience this change at different times in their adult lives, but the end result is the same. When the phase is complete, she will no longer be forced to endure her routine monthly bleeding nor will she be eligible to become pregnant, however her mutation from babe to bag will introduce a whole new set of challenges to the male affiliated with her. As we previously discussed, men mature at a slower rate than women so it is inevitable that at some point in the average marriage, a man will be bound to a woman who’s interests include gardening, knitting, crocheting, and most of the activities shown in Cialis commercials. For the free-wheeling man still embracing his youth despite his age, this is a challenging prospect. Hopefully the decades of sheer agony you’ve already undergone have left you as a shell of your former self so you can better adapt to the lifestyle changes of the geriatric woman you’ll be living with.

The truth is, however, that men love women. Love them, which is why they tolerate such intense hardship. The trick is to find a woman who strikes a perfect balance of what you as a man want. Speaking for our organization as a whole, men want a lady in public places, a freak in the bedroom, a professional masseuse right before bed, and a dude the rest of the time. That’s it. Ultimately it is very simple.


Men being men. Male togetherness through archery and rampant alcoholism. Cheers.

As a man, defending your manhood is a triumph. Society had made it increasingly difficult for a man to overcome the challenge of a woman with its various women’s rights initiatives and vast social push for equality.  Men need to learn to adapt to the modern day woman and all the obstacles that go along with her. As a man, you can escape the turmoil of your life momentarily by embracing things that society has deemed “manly.” Like watching grown men in heavy equipment running into each other while they chase after a ball. Find brief solace in other manly things. Drink a beer in the shower. Eat a block of cheese for dinner. Kick something once in awhile. Anything. Just kick it. Construct a ship in a bottle. Go hunting, fishing, or whittle a shiv out of a piece of driftwood. Uphold you masculine honor with other men by discussing manly enterprises, like archery, dueling, or chess. After all, it is still a man’s world. The modern man must go the extra mile to carve out a space of masculine solace.

April 16, 2014
by Creed

The Mythical Creatures of Childhood, pt 3: Easter Bunny

As we move deeper into the pantheon of false childhood beings, the obviously sensational nature of these creatures takes a backseat due to the rewards they bring. Children can be bribed into believing almost anything. Because the fictional beings of childhood typically promise gifts in exchange for good behavior, children are more likely to forgo questions and accept the idea that these outlandish creatures actually exist. Parents are willing to perpetuate this belief simply because a few times a year, they can threaten their underlings to behave without really having to enforce any rules. The thought of not receiving prizes from one of the seasonal false beings is usually warning enough to entice kids to straighten up. Parents promote these lies without ever questioning how these fabricated things came into existence at all. 

Part 3: The Easter Bunny brings good kids candy on Easter Sunday. 

Much like Santa, the ultimate mythical creature of childhood, the Easter Bunny has its roots deep in historical religious tradition. Briefly, the Easter Bunny, originally referred to as the Easter Hare, was a German Lutheran judge who evaluated the behavior of children as the Christian Paschaltide began. Similarly to Santa, the hare would bring gifts in the form of eggs to well-mannered children between Easter Sunday and Pentecost Sunday.


Once upon a time, the Easter Bunny looked like a real bunny.

There are truly many reasons why the symbolism of a rabbit worked for Christianity. Eggs and hares represented fertility which matched the motif of springtime rejuvenation. The bunny was portrayed as hermaphroditic, meaning it could procreate asexually thus maintaining its virginity and became a reference to the Christian Virgin Mary. Everything about the bunny itself is symbolic. German immigrants tried to bring the tradition to Sweden, however the term “Easter Bunny” translated into Swedish as “Easter Wizard.” Swedish children still dress as witches during Easter. 


Swedish Easter witches are not hermaphroditic, probably.

It is still commonplace in Christian church services for a bunny of some sort to be present among the congregation on Easter Sunday. The critter serves no real purpose and is largely a symbolic reference to the true origin of the Easter bunny tradition. While nothing engaging ever happens to the bunny like a public blood sacrifice or cooking and eating it in remembrance of Easters of yore, the very presence of the animal suggests that its historical roots are significant and much less murky than that of other mythical creatures like Santa. 

Up until this point, the Easter Bunny is chiefly a symbolic figure harkening back to a very real religious and historical pastime. Where the myth gets skewed, as always, is when it is placed in the care of capitalist American parents. The modern day Easter Bunny has taken on the role of a “springtime Santa Claus.” He is present at malls and shopping centers where children can sit on his lap and have their picture taken. He hops through busy restaurants and eateries on Easter Sunday, handing out candy and posing with younglings. He appears at community Easter events and church sponsored Easter egg hunts, perpetuating his very existence merely by his presence, kind of like the hermaphroditic hare of antiquity. He has risen from the ashes of symbolism and metaphor to become an actual creature that children believe exists. His purpose is nil. Much like the real bunny that you may see in church, he contributes nothing. But while his tangible uses are zero, his new symbolism as a “springtime Santa” allows parents to enforce seasonal good behavior without having to play the “bad-guy” role. 


The Easter Bunny as we now know it.

Wouldn’t it be so much more valuable if children understood the history behind the man in the Easter Bunny suit? Next time you see this fraudulent bunny prancing around at your local Easter community potluck, knock his head off and reveal the sweaty dude underneath, suffering for his minimum wage.

April 4, 2014
by Creed

Beware the Baby-Touchers

Having a baby brings on all kinds of new phenomena for a new parent. For the baby, everything is new and each new day brings a new discovery. Babies are always learning. The same can be said for a new parent. Each day brings a new and sometimes strange realization. Most recently, I’ve learned that people like touching random babies. It’s bizarre.

There is a certain, intangible quality about a baby in public. People like to look at it as if they’ve never seen one before. Some of the more forward people like to try to interact with it. They may ask its name as if it has any bearing whatsoever on their existence. A few of the more adventurous folk like to try to reach out and touch the baby. This is where I draw the line. The only thing I despise more than human contact is when some weirdo tries to touch my son. The next time some old broad in public tries to feel my son, I’m going to yank her walker out from under her, beat her husband with it, and throw the tennis balls away. Try to slide effortlessly across a smooth surface now with no tennis balls, granny!


You like those tennis balls down there, don’t you? Then keep your wrinkled paw off my baby!

The most baffling quality of public baby-touchers is that they are only interested in touching the baby. Throughout my journeys, I’ve tried a number of tactics to prevent the baby-touchers from contacting my son, one of which was offering up myself for free touching. Oddly enough, none of the baby-touchers were interested in touching me instead. Why is this? I’m of the same biological essence as a baby. I’m moderately chubby and silky smooth. I’m even mentally innocent and pure. I possess numerous baby-like qualities. But they remain steadfast in their desire to touch only the baby and not me. Strange indeed.


Only a select few pursue careers where public baby-touching is acceptable.

The baby-touchers are a persistent group. Try to turn away so they cannot reach the child, they’ll make a move in another direction. Try to take a step back, they’ll take a step forward. Slap their hand out of the way and they’ll look at you like you assaulted them. Pour gasoline over them and set them ablaze, and they’ll scream with horror as if YOU are the one who was out of line.

If you’re out in public with your baby, rest assured that I have no interest in touching it. None. It is a baby. I have one. I’ve seen one. I was one. And I’m generally familiar with what a baby feels like. Unless you’re carrying around a mogwai in a woven wrap, you won’t have to worry that I’ll be the one trying to touch it.


If you ever see me in public with a mogwai, by all means, touch freely.

So let this be a warning to new parents everywhere who’ve not yet experienced this phenomenon. The baby-touchers will find you and will stop at nothing until they’ve made contact with your baby.

March 28, 2014
by Creed

This Liebster Ends With Me

The internet is a weird place. In the 9 months since I’ve started this website, I’ve seen my number of page views grow from 1-2 per day to an astonishing 3-5 per day. I’ve gained droves of loyal fans, namely my mom, my wife, and…well, that’s about all. I’ve become rich beyond my wildest dreams, accruing a sum total of negative -$200 in hosting fees and zero profit…so more like intrinsically rich.


I like pink logos with hearts in them. I’m a fancy boy.

Maura over at tossed this maroon circle my way with a list of questions that I’m bound by internet protocol to answer. It’s called a Liebster. I’d never heard of it. Apparently it’s a thing that people in the internet world give those that they admire most. I’ve learned that much. I’ve also learned that autocorrect changes Liebster to “lobster” which sounds more like my style. So anyway, Maura hooked me up with the Liebster and I’ll supply the drawn butter. AAAANNNNNDDDDDD….proceed.

11 facts about me that you don’t know nor will you care about:

1. I once killed a marmot with a golf ball.

2. On the first day I had a driver license, I ran over a squirrel.

3. I’ve never been hunting.

4. My greatest strength is the ability to turn oxygen into carbon dioxide.

5. I’ve never seen a black man vomit.

6. My favorite mythical animal is the griffin.

7. It took me four tries to pass college algebra.

8. I’m afraid of whales.

9. I often wonder why centaurs always have six pack abs and how they do ab workouts.

10. I don’t like crowds or kids or anything that combines the two.

11. I’m a patient man. Beware the fury of the patient man.

11 questions from playpen-ipg:

1.)    MTV or VH1?  Like, 20 years ago, of course. VH1

2.)    Would you rather have sausage for fingers or grass for hair? I’d rather have sausage hair because hair grows and therefore I’d have an endless supply of delicious sausage available at all times.

3.)    Do you know what that question is from or did you have to Google it? Google and I’m still confused.

4.)    Do you really like your in laws? Hell yes. They grow, harvest, and press their own grapes for wine. They make homemade vodka. They are not bound by the tyranny of an imperialist empire. They love my son maybe more than I do. They are genuine people and that’s a rare quality these days.

5.)    What is your favorite chick-flick? “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” because damn that Matthew McConhugay…Mckokanee…MacConusgy…Mcconaughey. Yea that guy has a serious bod…umm…I mean Kate Hudson’s hot…disregard this question. Next.

6.)    Why do you blog? I observe lots of nonsense that needs articulating. So I articulate it. The world of parenting blogs is a disgusting and shallow landscape. I try to be different. I really want nothing to do with the “dad blog” scene. The very term itself makes me want to shove bamboo shoots up my own fingernails.

7.)     If you owned a strip club, what would you call it? The Wet Blanket. There would be a separate “champagne room” just for people who want to take a nap.

8.)    Stretch your right arm out as far as you can, right now.  What are you touching? A green porcelain elephant.

9.)    If you had to pick, would your child be the bully, or the bullied? Bullied. I see this two ways. As a bullied child, your very survival is predicated on your mental toughness, self-esteem, and ability to defend yourself. You, in turn, learn a valuable lesson about how you should be treating others. The adult world is a horrifying place. Whilst you never want to remove the veil of an innocent childhood too early, the reality is that being a grown-up sucks and life is hard. A bullied child will be better prepared and less entitled.

10.) Are you totally annoyed I nominated you for this? Yes.

11.) Are you going to unfriend me now? Strike 1. Watch yourself.

And now, who to nominate so that this lobster can get paid forward without someone hating me forever for putting them through this crap? I nominate no one…because this is stupid. Peace.

March 18, 2014
by Creed

The Future of Prenatal Care

Prenatal care has existed in one form or another virtually since the beginning of time. Throughout human history, there has never been a time when women didn’t have babies. Therefore, as early as the first natural birth of the primate that would one day become the modern human, some form of prenatal care was present. Initially, improvements to prenatal care ensured the perpetuation of the human species. Most if not all adjustments in the way a fetus is cared for was in response to some technology that could reduce infant mortality. Humans thought the Earth was a better place with us in it and sought to keep that going. Much of the vernacular we use today when referencing prenatal care is historically rooted in some reality of prenatal care past. The term “cesarean” wasn’t coined when describing the forcible removal of a troublesome fetus from the womb via surgery, but in fact was a Roman law which dictated that dying mothers have their abdomens cut open in order to extract the fetus before its lifeline expired. This was a form of prenatal care, as survival of the fetus was paramount especially if the mother was going to die anyway and wouldn’t be available to make more humans.

Obstetrical forceps date back to the 17th century. Although infant mortality may have been slightly higher in that age, initiatives existed for improving it. While we may consider extracting newborns with what were essentially salad tongs to be inhumane, it was a progressive step forward in 17th century English prenatal care. No longer are babies yanked from the birth canal using pliers but at the time, it was a logical solution that reduced infant mortality rates.

prenatal care

Obstetrical forceps are great for yanking troublesome babies from the uterus. Or grabbing those tough-to-reach croutons at the salad bar.

As a product of the 1980s, not only was I carried in a womb that was not afforded the extravagant benefits of 21st century prenatal care, but amazingly I turned out sort of normal. Prenatal care in the 80s was not barbaric, but it was nowhere near where it is today. How I survived I’ll never know. But my survival was not predicated on medieval prenatal care practices. Prenatal care in the 1980s was not dramatically different than it is now. My mother was advised to exercise and eat healthy. She was warned about the consequences of smoking and drinking during pregnancy. Thankfully for me, she chose to abide by most of these advices. While cigarette inhalation and fetal-alcohol syndrome did not negatively affect me, there are still lingering side effects from the hair bands and countless Richard Simmons work out videos I endured.

prenatal care

Healthy 1980s babies will recall Sweatin’ to the Oldies, even at the prenatal level.

My mother, however, as a product of the 1950s, was placed under intense hardship by modern fetal standards. Her parents chain smoked and drank heavily. Exercise for them was walking one block to church one day a week. She was exposed to asbestos, lead-based paint, and the painful sounds of Woody Guthrie. It is a miracle she survived at all. There were no means to monitor her growth as a fetus. No real checks and balances to ensure she was even still alive in there. However, in the parlance of the time, prenatal care was at its climax. Conditions for a fetus had never been better. Looking back, my mother turned into a moderately normal and healthy human. She’s never smoked or drank. Never developed any addictions or poor habits. Never has been diseased or bedridden for any ailments. In fact, using her as a sample, one could argue the benefits of smoking and drinking during pregnancy.

prenatal care

Research has shown that suicide rates are higher in adults exposed to Woody Guthrie as fetuses.

This makes one wonder what the future of prenatal care has in store. 4-D sonograms are a reality. New parents are able to not only get a picture of their baby pre-birth, but can construct a probability of characteristics based on genetic predisposition and odds. With all this possible, the next step has to be eliminating pregnancy altogether and opening baby emporiums where parents can select their child from a variety of options much like buying a new car. Children will be available in rudimentary models and range from average to luxurious. Depending on the financial prosperity of the parents, the baby can be purchased with incentive plans and luxury packages. It will be the golden age of childbirth. Except there will be no actual “birthing.” With modern medicine now capable of keeping even the most destitute babies alive, Darwinism has been virtually eradicated from human evolution. The onus will be on the parents now to not cheap out when assembling their baby.

In recent news, the human population just climbed over the 7 billion plateau. With natural selection a non-factor in developed nations, the human population will only continue to increase until the planet can sustain no more. Excellent prenatal care is partially to blame for this. If every insect on Earth died today, the human population would be extinct within 50 years. If every human died today, the Earth would flourish endlessly until the Sun explodes. Think about that when you consider the quality of prenatal care in your part of the world. In most cases, fetal and infant care has become so good that the mortality rate has declined to minimal proportions. In areas of the world where prenatal care is still lacking like sub-saharan Africa, mothers will typically spend the entirety of their fertile, adult lives making babies since they understand that just like tadpoles, a percentage simply will not make it. However, due in large part to medical advances in the third world, even babies that just a few years ago would have succumbed to natural selection are surviving.

If the Earth was a newborn baby, it would already be dead. Think about where the next billion people are going to live. The unstoppable progress of prenatal care has increased the need for a healthy planet for all these humans to inhabit. Unfortunately, no one seems to put much thought into where their grandchildren’s grandchildren are going to live. Odds are now in favor of the vast majority of children surviving. Of course, this is a great thing and the chief goal of improved prenatal care. However, unless the human race becomes a little more responsible, it won’t matter how good prenatal care is. We’ll all be dead from overpopulation.


March 12, 2014
by Creed

Parenting is Taxing

Tax season gets unfairly stigmatized as a negative time of year. People stress over their tax returns as if they have an option. Tax season is as predictable as a birthday. It comes every year at the same time and you go through the same meaningless crap with the same group of people. The only difference between tax day and your birthday is the group of people who you only vaguely care about is the IRS and not your family. But tax season should be a joyous time of year. For the majority of us who are not independently wealthy, tax time means you will likely be seeing some monies returning to you via refund. You’ll be able to stave off abject poverty for another couple of months. Congratulations.


Birthdays are like IRS audits. A group of people you don’t really want to see, giving you crap you don’t really need.

When dealing with your taxes, there are countless hidden and less-than-obvious ways to include additional deductions whether it is through charitable contributions or energy-saving initiatives in your own household. For most people, it is the bigger and more obvious ones that we look forward to as the new tax season approaches. One of the greatest deductions is for a dependent. Having a child has very few silver linings, however one of the most noticeable is the tax deduction that your child represents. After potentially many months of misery and near-bankruptcy, you’ll finally get to cash in on your offspring. It may truly be the only time when having a child actually seems beneficial.


Benefits of children include stress, messes, screaming, and overrated tax deductions. Kids are great.

For most common folk, we place our trust in services like Quicken or TurboTax in order to take the thought out of preparing our taxes. We simply enter our info and trust that the algorithm calculates our taxes accurately. Through this, not only are we attempting to collect the largest return sum possible, but we are eliminating the potential of screwing up the math ourselves and thus minimizing the likelihood that we will be audited. A man wiser than I once recounted that being the subject of an IRS audit was the financial equivalent of a full rectal examination. Only the select few of us who enjoy pencil-pushing strangers playing around our asses dare temp the IRS to fulfill this prophecy. Because of this reality, the trust we place in tax services is a double edged sword. While you may assume slightly less liability for an incorrect tax return, you’re left placing a large amount of financial faith in the accuracy of a computer program. This may be a good thing though. After all, the last time we trusted human competency over computer intelligence, George W. Bush became president.


If this makes sense to you, then perhaps you’re ready to file your taxes all by yourself.

Seasoned parents will tell you that filing your return after having a baby is a joyous time. However, claiming a dependent on your taxes has been blown out of proportion as a tremendous asset in raising a child. It is touted as one of the true financial benefits of having a kid. I’ve learned, however, that while a child may represent a sizeable deduction, the ultimate outcome is less than thrilling. While you certainly won’t be forced to pay more money, the funds you will receive are meager in comparison to the expectations created by society. When filing my tax return this year, I expected that not only would I recover the full sum of taxes withheld throughout the year, but that I would be handsomely rewarded by the federal government via surplus currency for the suffering I endured. I was not asking for much. Just the full sum of taxes paid, free child care for a year, and a five-piece, woodwind orchestra to awaken me each morning. This is what modern society has led me to believe happens when you claim a dependent. What I learned was that taxes are confusing and TurboTax doesn’t factor in human agony.

In conclusion, did I receive a larger return this year than I did last? Yes. I fully expected that and more. My current tax return, while enough to avoid abject poverty for another few months, is severely lacking considering what I was duped into believing. I can now move forward with the knowledge of what next tax season will bring. More importantly, I have confirmed that creating more humans is not beneficial to anyone. So as we all gather ‘round the dinner table this tax day, we can be thankful for poverty-rescuing refunds and a home without an abundance of babies. Perhaps the emotional solace actually makes it all worthwhile.

To American parents everywhere: Happy tax season. W-2s are available for immediate pick-up. Contraceptives are in aisle 5.

March 6, 2014
by Creed

America and International Women’s Day

America likes to be different. Throughout history, America has made a name for itself by going against the grain. However, most people are blinded to the irregularity of America simply because we live here. As we’ve been raised in this country, we have been molded to believe that what we do here is normal. More importantly, we’ve been conditioned to believe that it is every other nation that is strange by virtue of their differences. America likes to poke fun at Canada for things like socialized healthcare, hockey, and the metric system. But can the majority of American citizens name the two other countries in the world that do not operate based on metric measurements? It seems reasonable to postulate that most Americans do not even know that we are unique in our system of measurement. This is just one example as to how America turns a blind eye to many things that the rest of the world find common.

The metric system is a universal system of measurement. The two other global powerhouses that resist going metric are Myanmar and Liberia. Myanmar, formerly known as Burma, is roughly the size of Texas. Liberia is comparable in size to Virginia and houses about half the population. Maybe we can form some sort of anti-metric alliance for change. With those two historical regions of clout supporting us, the world will be forced to respect our preferred unit of measurement. In terms of socialized medicine, the U.S. stands virtually alone in the list of developed nations that do not offer universal healthcare. The short list of developed nations still without universal healthcare are the U.S. and the Soviet autocracy of Belarus. Perhaps yet another alliance for change is in order. The point is that whether or not we want to recognize it, America intentionally goes against the grain and forcibly makes its citizens believe the we, not the world, are normal. The hands-down most popular sport in America is professional football. A game enjoyed by exactly no one outside of America. Conversely, sports like rugby, hockey, and cricket are enjoyed the world over yet are only embraced regionally if at all in America.

International Women's Day

Burma officially became Myanmar in 1989. However to some, it will always be Burma.

March 8th is International Women’s Day. A holiday celebrated quite literally by the vast majority of the planet. Yet how many Americans have even heard of it? While I’d wager that a percentage of citizens born in America know of the day, it seems certain that most do not. International Women’s Day is not a hallmark holiday that was contrived for capitalistic purposes sometimes during our lifetime. It is not a gift-giving holiday that parents can use to strike fear in the hearts of their ill-mannered children in an effort to coerce good behavior. It is not an eating or drinking holiday. It is for all these reason that Americans do not choose to celebrate the day. If you can’t get liquored up, laid, or receive gifts, then it may as well not exist.

International Women's Day

International Women’s Day is a legitimate day of celebration the world over for the female species.

International Women’s Day has roots deep within the former Soviet Bloc. Which is probably one of the chief reasons America doesn’t want to acknowledge its existence. Instead, America took the primary demographics of woman and categorized them into two separate hallmark holidays. By observing both Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day, American capitalists could cash in on two holidays instead of just one. Additionally, by changing the philosophy of International Women’s Day by branding two separate holidays as hallmark holidays, we effectively turned a historical day of appreciation into multiple gift-giving opportunities and thus two occasions to buy crap. Even more astonishing is how we have basically garnered wholesale acceptance of both days nationwide all while keeping the wool pulled over the eyes of everyone with regard to the actual day that most of the world celebrates.

International Women's Day

Let’s not kid ourselves. Mother Russia still strikes fear in the heart of America.

I’m sure clever and crafty politicians will regurgitate some bogus anti-Cold War rhetoric when asked about why America doesn’t celebrate International Women’s Day. The holiday itself has been celebrated since the early 1900s and recognized as an official holiday in America since 1994. However, when March 8th rolls around, don’t be surprised if it goes largely unnoticed. For a nation that so willingly displays its equality in order to justify its inequality, we’ve been pretty stubborn when it comes to acknowledging this holiday. In a country that dedicates each month of the year to some ethnic minority or terminal illness, International Women’s Day has fallen through the cracks of appreciation. But worry not, fellow Americans, for St. Patrick’s Day comes just a fortnight thereafter and we can resume our cycle of unwarranted celebratory feasting and binge drinking. After all, we haven’t truly celebrated like shallow Americans since February 14th.

February 25, 2014
by Creed

No Crying in the Breast Milk

Having a bad attitude is sometimes enough to ruin your day. Sometimes, if your attitude is bad enough, it can ruin the day of those around you as well. Personalities are infectious, just like yawns.

A bad attitude can ruin your baby’s development.

This is about breast milk.

Maintaining a healthy milk supply is not 100% about mom. Although mom plays the feature role, those surrounding the mother are just as liable for either an abundant or uninspired supply of nutritious milk. Think of yourself as John Turturro, you’re never the lead but you can still have a pretty decent career in a supporting role.

breast milk

This guy is pretty much indisputable husband material forever.

It is relatively common knowledge that a mother’s positive stress level can quicken the flow of milk. Similarly, a lethargic and stressful attitude can contribute to a slower flow. This seems to be well established in the breast milk discourse. What is not as well known, is that mom’s hormones, namely a shortage of oxytocin, can cause the supply of milk to not only slow, but diminish.

The bond between a newborn and the parents, especially the mother, should never be underestimated. Research even suggests that stress can be communicated telepathically to the baby, thus preventing the child from achieving a state of relaxation suitable for proper feeding. Babies truly are interesting creatures.

There are a number of factors that can influence a mother’s breast milk supply. While stress is certainly not chief among them, it is something that cannot go overlooked.

Probably most interesting is new research linking things like attitudes, music, and environment to potential shifting in the structure of water molecules. Breast milk is 88% water. While these ideas are still unproven, it seems realistic that external forces i.e. angry dad, could cause a change at the molecular level in a woman’s breast milk. Similarly to the concept that dairy cows exposed to Mozart produce a higher quality and quantity of milk, a woman’s breast milk supply is also influenced by outside forces.

Being a new parent is sometimes an infuriating state of existence. Newborns are annoying. They are frustrating. Sometimes they are inconsolable. Babies require round the clock care and it is perfectly normal to harbor feelings of ill will towards your new forlorn and powerless dependent. Attitudes quickly sour and interpersonal relationships strain in the wake of the colicky and feeble mass of fleshy tissue now squatting in your house. Such is the reality of caring for a baby.

However, it is of paramount importance to remember that your attitude, yes you, dad, can ultimately be the root cause of your child’s malnourishment. As much as the mother and baby need support, they need a positive demeanor even when you feel like throwing yourself off a cliff and taking the entire family plummeting with you. Which is pretty much all the time when dealing with a newborn.

Throw yourself off a cliff on your own time. Keep it positive in the homestead.

For more, there is a great blog entitled, The Alpha Parent that, in addition to many other things “parenting,” focuses heavily on breastfeeding. Click here for judgement-free breastfeeding info and other boobie related topics.

February 19, 2014
by Creed

Wrap That Thing Up

Wrapping it up is a key ingredient in becoming a parent. Men especially will want to wrap it up because we simply do not have the control of a woman. By wrapping it up, men can prevent something from slipping out and ending up where it shouldn’t be. Basically, we are keeping it safe. There is nothing worse than an unexpected catastrophe because we neglected to wrap it up. While it may be a bit cumbersome and uncomfortable at first, everyone will feel much safer when it is wrapped. There are a variety of ways to go about this. However, a wide range of products exist for properly wrapping it up. Some work better than others. Some are a little more expensive, but you’ll find that when it comes to wrapping it up, you don’t want to skimp and risk an accident. Purchasing a high quality product will ensure that whenever you wrap it up, you are comfortable and safe. There is a lot of peace of mind attached to properly wrapping it up. Do not take this task lightly.

When I wrap it up, I prefer to use the Girasol baby sling. I find that Girasol provides one of the softest and most comfortable woven wraps. It requires very little breaking in. Every wrap is hand woven to promote quality and comfort. In fact, some of my son’s happiest moments are when he is tucked securely against my chest in the Girasol wrap. I know that he is secure there and we are both comfortable. Baby-wearing, however, is not isolated to our comfort. There are countless other benefits to owning a woven wrap for your baby.


Girasol makes a wrap so comfortable, you may forget the baby is there.

If you are a raging narcissist, baby-wearing might just be right for you. If you enjoy strolling down the street while envious women gaze longingly at you and your handsome child in his woven wrap, then baby-wearing will adequately quench your narcissistic thirst. It is a proven fact that the hotties will swoon and old broads will compliment you and probably have to change their adult diapers. As the male baby-wearer, you attract the full age spectrum of legal females. While they initially gravitate to the child dangling off your chest, they stay for the distinct charm and irresistibility that male baby-wearers instinctively possess. Science has virtually proven that women love good dads and there is nothing like a baby latched to your chest to illustrate your high level of parenting acumen. By virtue of just wearing the baby, you instantly come off looking like father-of-the-year material. No longer will you need to seek validation from your own reflection.


Step 1: Attract women with your baby-wearing. Step 2: Remind yourself of what sex is capable of producing. Step 3: Flee the scene.

Another benefit to being a baby-wearing male is the lower back strength you’ll unknowingly generate. Wrapping the baby provides a level of comfort that makes the physical burden strapped to your chest virtually weightless. However, when you remove the tiny human from his cocoon, you will notice an amazing difference in how you carry yourself. Your posture and overall upper body strength will improve tremendously. Most importantly, you won’t be wasting precious minutes in the gym struggling over a bowflex that will appreciate neither your good looks nor your ability to expertly care for your child. Fitness equipment is thankless.

When I wrap it up, I like to do a chest wrap. I find that I can still perform a variety of movements and motions with a baby attached to me that I could do without, simply because the wrap provides such a secure hold. While my son and I were out walking yesterday, I saved a cat from oncoming traffic by diving across the street at a high speed and barrel-rolling to safety onto the adjacent sidewalk. I celebrated my good deed and performed a break dance routine for the patrons waiting for the train near my house. Both heroic acts were executed with my son on my chest. He never even woke up.


I usually reserve my break dance sessions for when I’m grilling franks at home. My wife just hates all my hot-dogging.

Wrapping it up is a critical part of being a good father. While this technology did not exist in the mid-80s, I still consider my own dad a good father. Although he never had the opportunity to publicly break dance or save forlorn animals with me tied to his chest, he still managed to be a good father to me and my sister. It is a little known reality in my family that my father keeps a picture of me tucked safely in his wallet, right next to the condom that I was supposed to be in. Apparently I came into existence because he didn’t wrap it up. Life is ironic.

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