I’ve come to believe that “I’m bored” is not a problem. It’s an opportunity. That may sound odd in a world where most parents, myself included, are surrounded by a buffet of instant distractions. The second a kid sighs, we can queue up Netflix, hand over a tablet, or suggest a quick craft we saw on Instagram.

If you’re a parent with a preschooler, chances are you’ve already been pulled into the colorful, imaginative world of Bluey. And if you haven’t…well, brace yourself. This Australian kids’ show is more than just something to keep little ones occupied while you fold laundry.

One minute, my kid was happily stacking blocks, and the next, every waking hour was filled with “Did you know the velociraptor had feathers?” and demands that I attempt (and fail) to pronounce “parasaurolophus” without sounding like I was choking on a peanut.

One dad opens up about what he sees his wife and other moms going through—and why parenting culture needs to stop expecting perfection from mothers. Here’s what actually matters most for kids.

Data from the Atlantic says kids don’t actually want to spend all their free time on their phones, but they feel that’s the only way they can hang out with friends. Modern parenting has taken real‑world connection without adult supervision off the table for most of them.

Yes, your kid banging on a saucepan with a wooden spoon is adorable. But what if we gave them an actual instrument and a little instruction? What if we treated music not just as something fun to dabble in, but as a real skill worth developing?

Parenting can feel like trying to juggle eggs on a unicycle during an earthquake. Some days you’re up at sunrise, throwing frozen waffles on plates. Other days you’re quietly questioning if you’re actually doing any of this right—or if you’re just dragging yourself from one chaotic moment to the next..

Between packing lunches, changing diapers, attending school events, and Googling “how to remove slime from carpet,” it’s easy to let your romantic relationship fade into the background. But here’s the truth: If you have a partner in this wild ride, your relationship still matters.

That’s right—summer is almost over. But before we all shift back into morning routines, PTA sign-ups, and lunchbox math, let’s talk about going out with a bang.

We did the soccer thing, but he didn’t take to that and by the end of the season, we weren’t showing up. Up next comes teeball, which is truly exciting. But who knows, maybe sports won’t be his thing. The good news is there are plenty of other hobbies that can instill the same values, skills, and character you earn on the field.

Not long ago, I set my nearly four-year-old son up at the kitchen counter with a sponge, ready to wash dishes with me after lunch. But then he splashed water everywhere, knocked over a number of dishes I shouldn’t have put in front of him, and I ran out of patience.

Raising kids in 2025 feels like trying to build a treehouse during a hurricane. The wind keeps shifting, the boards keep warping, and every now and then someone hands you a hammer made of jelly. But we’re doing it anyway. Because that’s what parents do. We build while everything turns strange.

Kids are always watching. They hear what we say but they really absorb what we do. And the older my child gets, the more I realize that parenting isn’t just about setting rules or giving advice. It is about modeling a life worth living. It is about trying to be the kind of person I hope he will become.

At Juicebox Politics, we do our best to cut through the clutter. We want to be the place you land when you’re nursing your coffee after a 5:00 a.m. wake-up or scrolling during swim practice. We want to give you something real, something useful, something that makes you laugh or cry. So, What do you want to read about?

I used to think of activists as people who marched with megaphones, carried homemade signs, and knew how to chant in unison without getting awkward. You know, people who had time to organize rallies, write op-eds, or storm the steps of city hall. I, on the other hand, could barely make it through a preschool drop-off.

Let’s talk about something that gets lost in the laundry pile of parenting: Your relationship. Not the one with your toddler or your teen or your family’s dentist. The one with your partner. Your spouse. The person who used to be your best friend before they became the person you mostly talk to about childcare logistics and Amazon orders.

I love my kid. I want them safe, happy, hydrated, and reasonably clean. I want them to know the difference between right and wrong, stranger danger and friendly neighbors, and why it’s a good idea to wear underwear under your superhero costume. What I don’t want is to hover over their every move like I’m directing air traffic on a windy day.

You know that moment at the park. One kid has a bucket. Another wants it. There’s a stare-off, maybe a whack with a plastic shovel, and suddenly everyone’s looking at you like you’re a referee at a toddler boxing match. Welcome to the wonderful, wobbly world of kids learning how to play together.

It’s not because I’m trying to raise the next child prodigy. It’s not even because I think I’m smarter than other parents. It’s just that, from the beginning, my gut told me he could handle it.

Remember when smart gadgets were supposed to make life easier? That was the promise. Tap an app, and dinner is planned. Ask a speaker, and the lights go off. Get a text, and you’re reminded to bring snacks to soccer. But there’s a twist.