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The Imperfect Parent

The Imperfect Parent is an online magazine for parents who want to exercise their mind and read more than articles about diaper rash.

The IP BookshelfYesterday

Manfish: A Story of Jacques Cousteau
By Jennifer Berne; illustrated by Eric Puybaret
Chronicle Books; $16.99
40 pp.; ISBN-13: 978-0811860635

Review by Amy Brozio-Andrews

In this engaging biography of Jacques Cousteau, Jennifer Berne and Eric Puybaret create a warm and respectful tribute to the famous French ocean explorer, filmmaker, and conservationist. Manfish: A Story of Jacques Cousteau covers his life from early childhood through his conservation work, factual and yet still simply told enough and well-illustrated enough to interest even young readers.

Jacques Cousteau's early childhood captivation by the ocean to his youthful interest in filmmaking and inventing found expression in his adulthood with a stint with the French Navy and a chance underwater encounter with a friend's goggles. Inspired, he invented the aqualung, which first allowed people to breathe while sw

The Parental is PoliticalNovember 25

The recent elections - not only the Presidential election, but many state and local races as well - underscored just how much the Republican party has narrowed. Even the commentary leading up to the elections, particularly on conservative talk radio programs, provided a rubric of which views - and which people - were welcome in the party, and which were not.

This narrowing has been happening for years. When former New Jersey Governor Christine Todd Whitman published her book "It's My Party Too" in early 2005, after leaving the Bush Administration in 2003, the idea that social conservatism would be the downfall of the GOP was highly criticized. Not surprisingly, the book's harshest critics included Gary Bauer and Ann Coulter.

But last week, Whitman and her co-author Robert Bostock published an article in the Washington Post that noted how prescient the premise of their book really was:

"Our central thesis was simple: The Republican Party had been taken hostage by "social fundamentalists," the people who base their votes on such social issues as abortion, gay rights and stem cell research. Unless the GOP freed itself from their grip, we argued, it would so alienate itself from the broad center of the American electorate that it would become increasingly marginalized and find itself

What's the Matter With Mommy?November 24

Unless you’ve been living under a rock (and it may soon come to that, literally, for a lot of us), you’ve probably heard that our economy is in crisis. For the first time, some folks are waking up and smelling the coffee, seeing that it’s a latte from Starbucks, and thinking, “Have I really been paying four dollars for a goddamn cup of coffee?”

But cutting back on expenses is nothing new for me. I feel like I’ve been living in Hooverville anyway for the last eleven years, since I first decided to be a SAHM and voluntarily gave up half the household income. You’re talking to a woman who wouldn’t DREAM of wasting her money on that fancy   Preparation H, when store brand hemorrhoid ointment is good enough.

But other women have been lucky. They were able to fritter away big bucks on individual serving-sized packages of Pringles and name brand diapers. No more. Things are changing!

Can you imagine what playgroups will look like within a few months? No more sitting around, drinking fair trade organic dung beetle coffee, watching the toddlers chew on overwrought educational toys from One Step Ahead and whining about how long that kitchen renovation is taking because the custom drawer pulls are on back order.

Maybe we will be forced to go back in time and learn our frugal ancestors’ housekeeping methods. What’s it going to sound like if modern mothers are forced to adopt a neo-colonial lifestyle? There’s going

Long Journey on a Short BusNovember 20

Eric, my baby, turned 5 last week. The big oh-five. You remember five? At five I was in kindergarten trying to figure out what “playing house” meant and why anybody would even want to and arguing with other kids about things like what day of the week is the first day of the week and wondering what the hell I did wrong in order to be sent to such a weird place to begin with. Raising your hand to go to the bathroom? And worse—having to say so out loud?

That was my five.  Eric’s five is different. Very different.  His older brother, Nathaniel, IMs me sometimes and tells me things that I’m probably better off not knowing. Here’s a recent offering:

today was Eric's most destructive day ever/ he ripped apart every lego ship that was in my room/ broke the tv/ knocked over jack's coffee pot/ did something else with coffee pot/ dumped out daddy's kit bag/ ate some of my candy/and was mean/ and he hurt himself a lot too.

That was Eric’s day. A single day. And it’s many of Eric’s days. His dad recently told me that at their house, Eric likes climb onto the kitchen island, take off all his clothes and diaper, and dance and sing. Which wouldn’t be too bad a thing except that according to his dad he also has a habit of removing his diaper after he has pooped and sometimes flinging the stuff around.

Eric’s dad says he is considering the various uses of duct tape, but meanwhile there’s a larger probl

While Mom's @ WorkNovember 19

I was thirty-two when my wife gave birth to our first child. In the months before our daughter's arrival, I performed numerous calculations and scenarios in my head: I will be forty-eight when she receives her driver's license, fifty when she graduates high school, ninety-eight when she has sex for the first time, and so on. I started to wonder how many of her adult milestones I would still be alive for.

But if this past month is any indication, I'll be forty by the time she's all grown up.

I have watched as the artwork made at preschool, Vacation Bible Schools, and kindergarten that once adorned her bedroom walls has been replaced by pinups of her favorite Radio Disney crooners. The little girl that used to love Dora The Explorer has turned her affections to High School Musical. An afternoon spent listening to a band playing kids' music in the park has been swapped for tickets to a Cheetah Girls concert. I have noticed the girl that once joined in with me for a chorus of "Mommy, clothes don't have to match!" has started meticulously picking out her outfits for school. My goofy jokes, songs, and dance numbers that once elicited laughter are now met with eye rolling. At least my son still appreciates me.

Did I mention she's only six?

This past weekend, my wife and I were foolish enough to invite two of her classmates over for a slumber party. During the course of the evening and the next day, I learned two valu