We hope you had a nice relaxing weekend, and to make the beginning of the week a little brighter, we offer you a Monday edition of the Weekly Web Round-Up! This week we cover the hardships of going back to work after being a stay-at-home parent, why kids are actually the worst, one man’s reasoning for not wanting sons, and the cat- vs. dog-lover argument. And check back on Friday, when—I promise—we’ll have a regular web round-up!
Deciding to be a stay-at-home parent may be a tough choice—Who stays home? Can we afford it? Those are probably the questions you and your husband/wife discuss before making the decision, but here’s one you may not have considered: How hard will it be for me to go back to work? Jennifer Romaniuk wrote to the Motherlodeabout her troubles “‘I voluntarily walked away from a promising career,’ she e-mailed. ‘I had no idea how long it would take to claw my way back.’”
But when the child-care pressures began to ease, Ms. Romaniuk was a different person in a different employment market, overqualified for the entry level but not experienced enough for senior positions, and facing businesses (in her case, law firms) who aren’t taking many chances on employees any more. Re-entry hasn’t just been hard, it has been making her regret the choice she made almost a decade ago.
Are you back in the job hunt after being a stay-at-home parent? What are some of the difficulties you’re facing? We all know how awesome kids are. They’re funny, cute, cuddly, and awed by the simplest things. But BuzzFeed compiled a list of 27 Reasons Why Kids Are Actually the Worst. Our favorite reason why kids are the worst? They’re terrible laborers. 
When you were expecting, did you have an extreme desire for one gender over the other? The Huffington Post recently posted Steve Almond’s post Here’s the Bad News, Son from The Good Men Project. Almond really didn’t want to have any boys. You might think, “why not?” or “Every father wants a son.” Almond’s wife has just revealed that they are having a boy, and his reaction is…
I close my eyes. My forehead thuds softly against the mirror over the sink. It’s my job now to say something, rather quickly, about how great this is, how excited I am to be having a son, a bouncing baby boy, an heir to carry on our silly family name. But when I open my eyes, the light inside the bathroom is a sickly yellow and my chest is hammering with panic.
In 14 heart-breaking, totally honest vignettes depicting scenes from growing up with brothers, Almond shows why he didn’t want to have boys.
And whom does history commemorate if not those men most effective at marshaling their aggression to shape the world? For every Gandhi, a hundred villains. For every Enlightenment, a hundred Inquisitions. For every treaty, a hundred wars.
What I’m asking here is, Do we ever outgrow our savagery? Is there any way to strip from us the masculine pathologies acquired over millions of years of evolution?
Let me put all this in a more personal light: How am I to protect my son from a world that lives inside of me?
I have plenty of fancy ideas about how this might happen, about what it means to be a good man, and I’ve spent many years trying to publicize my own glowing empathy. But the truth is I remain a prisoner of terror and rage, one minute puffing out my chest, the next cowering, dreaming of a power that resides in valor, in the ability to inflict physical harm. It’s horrible who I am.
Do you go through your kids’ Halloween candy and take what doesn’t look safe? My mom used to do that and take all the good chocolates for herself. NickMom posted this pie chart of Halloween Candy Safety Statistics. Does this sound familiar?
Lately, it seems like pets are the topic of choice in our office. The discussion of being a “cat person” vs. a “dog person” has been occurring in our office ever since one of our editors got a kitten, and The AKC Meet the Breeds show was this weekend. Did you go? We did, and we had a blast meeting and petting all of the puppies (sorry kitties, two dog-lovers went this time)! I think it’s safe to say that this baby belongs in the dog-lover camp.
