Hi! <Waves>

Funny and honest tales from a made-to-work Dad of three, wobbling, graying, and laughing his way through parenthood. Armed to the teeth with Nerf guns, full of pie, fighting a chocolate addiction, but genuinely honoured to be at least half of Team Parents (yay!).

15 July 2016

The Immovable Object (me) and the Unstoppable Emotional Force (Boy9)...

They're fun aren't they?
Oh what fun we have some mornings. Giggles, laughs, golden family moments.
Yeah sometimes... not this morning though <Rolls eyes>

This morning.
I find myself hitting the coats in the porch. Ten minutes before I leave for work.
It's my new exercise routine, I call it coatercieFURY. I was wound up.
I am prone to getting wound up. I know.
Which is why I was de-stressing on the coats.
Don't worry. I wasn't flailing my arms about going nuts. It wasn't that bad.
But bad enough that I took, a slightly comical, moment to myself to show a few coats who's boss.

Take that winter coat! <Hits coat> Ha ha!
<Bobs and weaves> And this summer jacket! <Hits coat>
Zing! YEAH! <Hits different coat>
And take THIS favourite hat! Wallop!!! <Flattens own hat>
Shiiiit Oh... Smeg...
<Coat rack falls off wall and lands on me>
<Mrs. Amazing's scarf box falls on me and I am never found again>

The cause of my woundedupness stress was Boy9.
Boy9 was being an utter, utter smegger tired out. He had competed in an athletic thingy at school the day before and was exhausted (not sports day, something else).
I gather there was a lot of hanging about in the sun (yes UK sun. It's real), twenty minutes of actual competing. Then more hanging about in the sun.
All perfect exhausting ingredients for a nine year old.
Still he had fun.

He came home exhausted.
Team Parents (yay!) differed on how best to tackle the tired out Boy9 before he went to bed.
Mrs. Amazing's plan: was to sit him in front of some cartoons, feed him, administer hot chocolate, and generally pamper and look after him like only a mother can.
My plan: was to go to the park and kick an enormous ball about with him for ten minutes. Because that’s a laugh.

I am Not sure my plan which wasn't the most sensible.
Knowing how a Team Parents (yay!) vote was likely to go. Me and Boy9 snuck headed out.
Enormous football ready. BOINGGGGG!
A right laugh and it helped us bond a bit. Which is always handy as that helps me and Boy9 communicate better.
We fight less.
#FamouseLastWords #FamouseRatherThenFamous #NotATpyo #ThatWasATypo

(Oy! You bloody giant kids!!! I just re-turreted that!!!)

Boy9 was given a nice hot bath.
I read him some How to Train Your Dragon (book 11). It's seriously awesome.
And then encouraged him to sleep. <Shakes fist> He even said how tired he felt.
Poor love.

Throughout the night he only appeared twice.
First time he claimed he ‘needed’ to speak to Mrs. Amazing. As he instantly realised my reaction to him being up wasn’t a happy one. So Mrs. Amazing trotted him back to bed and he told her whatever it was that he needed to tell her. I am pretty sure was 'I am annoying Daddy by talking to you'.
Second time he appeared looking lost and mostly asleep. Easily hugged and put back to bed.

Then the next morning something miraculous happened.
Boy9 slept in.
<Faints> <Is really just sleeping on the floor>

The first little face we see next morning.
Peering at Team Parents (yay!) is Miss5’s. And whilst I say Team Parents (yay!). Miss5 was at Mrs. Amazing's side of the bed. As Miss5 isn't always silly.
One side of the bed can be woken by breathing softly. Or by a slight fluctuation in your aura. Or a butterfly fart.
The other side of the bed requires cake a firm diving on, shouting at, eyelid lifting, lots of tea, and there's always a chance you may hear words you've never heard before and be growled at.

All of Team Parent (yay!) would rather not get up.
Mrs. Amazing lays out her cards regarding who should interact with Miss5 this morning.
Mrs. Amazing: 'A Royal flush and two spare aces'
Mrs. Amazing: <To me> ‘I got up with BOTH of them last night. I'm knackered’
Urghhhh (* 'Oh my poor love. I feel and acknowledge your pain and knackeredness. Cuppa?')
Mrs. Amazing: <To me, but at Miss5> ‘Go see Daddy this morning’
Miss5: <Tiny feet sounds>
Oooof <Gets jumped on>

I collect BabyBoy2 from his room too.
He’s very cute. He’s dead happy it's morning. Yet another brilliant day in his life.
What a happy little fella he is…
<Enters BabyBoy2's room>
BabyBoy2: 'DADDY!'
BabyBoy2: <Bounces around cot for a bit> ‘Poo!’ <Points at nappy>
Uh-huh. Yep. On it

We three sneak downstairs and watch cartoons.
Well I sneak. Miss5 seems to make more noise when trying to be quiet.
And BabyBoy2 shouts for Boy9 a few times. Next to his bedroom door.
But luckily Boy9 doesn’t wake.

Mrs. Amazing joins us a bit later after checking her Batmessages.
And a lovely breakfast is had by all. In fact we are nearly finished when in slowly floats Boy9.
Still looking knackered. But happy.
Boy9 has managed to slept in for one whole hour.
A P.B..

If only it wasn't a school day.
<Lets that one just sink in…>

Boy9 floats and then sits.
Away from the table with his breakfast on, but hey! That's fine.
The table with his breakfast on would be a better choice in my opinion.
We're a bit behind time now for school. But hey! Boy9 seems in a good mood. He's talking without spitting fire. Winner.
So I head upstairs to do...  well... early morning man stuff.
<Plays on phone>

I come back lighter and am passed by Miss5 and Mrs. Amazing leaving for upstairs.
Mrs. Amazing: 'We're leaving... He's turned...'
Mrs. Amazing: <Passes me the baton>
I don't want it

(Ok pass me the baton… <Bzmmmm> My hand!!!.... Cool baton btw...)

I walk into the kitchen to find Boy9 has been replaced with the Anti-Nice.
A sort of demonic entity that cannot be nice not matter what is going on.
So rather than engage the Anti-Nice. I do what I do best. I put on excellent music.
Loud. And dance like I've got wings on my feet enjoy it.
Boy9 is plonked in front of his cereal. I tidy the kitchen. He eats. Everyone does their jobs. No communication is needed.
I get to rock out. Lovely.

Boy9 grumps his way through the rest of his morning jobs.
It takes a lot of coaching, persuading and nagging.
Get dressed = Grump
Use bathroom = Grump. Grump
ACTUALLY use the facilities in the bathroom to become cleaner = BIG Grump. You're so mean. Argghgh! Grump
Get your bag = Grump
Stop annoying, looking or being too close to your sister = Grump
Stop annoying your mother = Grump

It’s after this round of Anti-Nice behviour.
That Mrs. Amazing turns to me and elects me Chief ‘Suntan Lotion Putter Onner’.
The speech that goes with it is beautiful....
Mrs. Amazing: 'He needs suntan lotion. You do it'
Mrs. Amazing: 'I can't face arguing with him anymore this morning'
I would like to resign my post immediately and leave for work
OK... Boy9 where are you?
Boy9: <Does far-off grump>

Boy9 doesn’t like applying suntan lotion.
So he reacts badly when I ask him nicely to put it on. We discuss what has to happen.
Boy9 storms off to his room and slams his door. I give him five minutes to calm down.
It does not work, he needed a year.

Boy9 is furious and in tears.
He is exhausted and has decided he RE-EALL-Y doesn't want to put on suntan lotion.
My heart goes out to the little ball of anger and emotion. If I could, I would whisk this little boy up in my arms and nothing would ever hurt him again. And he wouldn’t have to go outside and need suntan lotion. But that’s stupid thinking. He has to.
My heart comes back from the little ball of anger and emotion and it hardens and calms.
As it’s bored of his wailing and whining.

I try for the next ten minutes to talk him round.
It is very un-fun and he is rude, mean and quite urghh to me.
I do nearly manage to convince him at one point. But it backfires only makes him crosser.
+1000 Dad points: I did manage to remain calm. YAY!
+10 Dad points: I did not shout. yay!

I was using my FIRM voice though.
The one that can stop all children in hearing range in their tracks.
Firm. Slightly loud. In control.
But defo not shouty.

Time was getting very short.
We would all be late for school and work. Boy9 REALLY needed to get on with this.
I change from Captain Discussion and Reasoning into Thor's hammer THE IMMOVABLE OBJECT and lay down the law. Boy9 adopts the role of UNSTOPPABLE emotional FORCE.
I use all my years of... er… stuff… and give him just one choice.
My choice.

(Don't judge... I'm still carrying a little Easter, post-Easter, general life, weight...)

<Soft voice> I am going to count to five <Shows fingers on hand>
Then I am going shove the bottle up your nose put the suntan lotion on for you
Boy9: 'But!'
No. <Interrupts> No more negotiations, no more discussion, no more whining
When I get to five… <Gives Boy9 a 'I bloody mean it' look>
Boy9: 'WAHHHHHHH! You're so MEAN!!!'

Boy9 put the suntan lotion on.
Thank bacon. He was now ready to face the merciless British sun.

Obviously Boy9 was now furious with me.
Pride and all that. How very dare I care about his skin health and well being. No eye contact, doesn’t really talk to me. It's about this time that I go into the porch and have my moment with the coats.
I do feel better after.

Me and Miss5 say our goodbyes and are just walking off to Miss5's school.
When Boy9 runs after us. Shouting Daddy…

He rushes up to me and gives me a big hug and kiss.
And says he's sorry.
Not for anything particular, but we both know what he is talking about.
I really felt he meant it too or he's playing me like a kipper. And I checked it wasn't due to a Mrs. Amazing prompt either.
My wound up heart melts. And he becomes my big-little dude again.
Immovable object? Ha! More like moon putty.

Look! <Is excited> I got a sticker at work!
Mrs. Amazing: 'What's it say?'
I worked hard today!
Mrs. Amazing: 'Did you steal it?'
HOW VERY DARE YOU! <Huffs about>
I am so outraged I am going to take this chocolate... <Raids chocolate cupboard>
And this... <Raids chocolate cupboard again>
And this cake <Takes cake> and go into the other room and watch cartoons...
<Leaves with dignity>
<Sneaks back into to get my cuppa>

(<Is wistful> One day I'll get one... One day...
Mrs. Amazing: 'I'm sure you will... I just know it' <Is lying>)

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