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!).

6 April 2017

A Week? A Whole Week?...

As we stand there waving Boy9 off on his trip.
Mrs. Amazing is fighting back some tears. It's hard letting go.
And Boy9 will be gone a whole week.

BabyBoy2 is waving too.
Shouting Boy9's name in his little voice. Cute. Miss6 is waving too.
She's a bit grumpy, which Team Parent (yay!) secretly think is because she is going to miss Boy9, but we say nothing. And just ignore her grumps. Even when she hid, badly, in a bush.
BabyBoy2 and Miss6 are dressed in their pajamas as it's 7am. BabyBoy2 in very cool Spider-man hoodie. Wish I had one.
Miss6 in bright pink. Hence the poor hiding in greenness.
The school coach finally pulls off and Boy9 is gone.
For a week.
<Runs about cheering>

Which I am totally fine with.
I've no tears to pretend are not really there (I've some grammar to look at, but tears no). It's far too early in the morning for what you humans would call emotions.
But I do mention to Mrs. Amazing what will get me later. It will be this evening as we tame the little lions into bed. Again convincing them to sleep. As I walk past Boy9's room and he's not in there. Picking his nose or something equally gross.
It will be those moments I'll think most of him and miss him.
Each night this week.

It was an early start to the morning.
More so. The coach left at 7am. So we had to be at the school at 6:30am. Which meant setting an alarm for the first time in years.
If you've young kids than alarm clocks just seem silly.
Our actual alarm is covered in dust in the loft and has been there for years. For a while it sat optimistically near my side of the bed. Waiting to be plugged in again.
But it never happened. As we have three alarm clocks that still refuse to accept 6:30am is wake up time.
Even the incredible cot-escaping BabyBoy2 has joined in on the 'let's wake the exhausted parents' act. yay. Boy9 still being the main morning-too-early culprit.
He had even set his own alarm. In case he slept in.
No chance.
We set the alarm for 5:45am...

You're setting it for when?
Mrs. Amazing: '5:45am'
But that's still night time... and I've nine years of sleep to catch on...
Mrs. Amazing: 'Me too...' <Looks sad>
Mrs. Amazing: 'We'll be able to have two cuppas before we leave'
<Grumbles> Suppose... mines a very large one...
(What the hell is that in the sky??? <Is panicking>
And where’s the <yawns> sun gone?
<Just goes back to sleep>)

Boy9 was really excited.
And nervous. And looking forward to it. And worried about the unknown.
There was a huge mix of emotions rattling through that little boy. Good stuff I suppose.
He's suddenly so grown up and off doing stuff on his own. But then he's really small and not even ten yet. It's a funny time. Weird funny.
He's being pulled in lots of directions at once. Be good. Be bad. Fit in with the lads. Don't do what those lads are doing. Do what Team Parent (yay!) say. Really. What we say. Oh right... Fair point. Now, with that new information, do what we say. Oh go on! Please?
<Offers chocolate>
Boy9's internal conflict doesn't always seep out in the most constructive ways either (it never, ever, ever, does). (With the possible exception of light sabre battles).
Like the morning before...

[Finds Boy9 watching tele, NOT sitting down for breakfast, hasn't even said morning]
Dude! It's breakfast. I've made you breakfast? Big breakfast for big boy going away tomorrow?
You want breakfast? Breakfast?
Boy9: 'Shut your face'
Hey hey... Don't be rude <Holds it together>
Now please turn the tele off and come in and have some breakfast...
I've asked twice al...
Boy9: 'Shut UP!'
<Eye twitches> ... please... for breakfast and your own safety ... come sit down...
<Turns off tele for him> <Is internally ablaze with fury> <But hides it well>
Come on, what track shall we list...
Boy9: 'OH! Shut your face'
Boy9: 'Good!' <Stomps off>
<Spends some time air decking certain people>

Not my best moment.
Especially as the night before Team Parent (yay!) had discussed this very situation.
About how Boy9 would be full of nervous / excited energy. And how we both needed to be super-tolerant and understanding with Boy9.
Especially me.

Why especially me?
Brainzilla: 'You know...'
I don't… <Lies>
Brainzilla: <Shows ream after of ream of utterly convincing footage of why 'I' should especially keep my cool>
You suck Fair enough, all good points suck-face...

As Boy9 would spoiling for a fight.
Pretty much he would be looking for any release he could find. Either through laughing and love. Ahhhhh.
Or as a big old angry fight with me any of Team Parent (yay!).
In my defence it was early morning. I was only one cuppa down. And the two little ones had already bugged quite a fair bit, by not making sense. And my favourite song was playing, which I was missing.
At least that was my only slip. And no matter the provocation til Boy9 left on the trip.
I kept my cool.
<Gives self gold star>

Boy9: 'Dad! Watch... Your Millennium Falcon, a hammer, smashy smashy!'
<Buries head in sofa>
Boy9: 'Bongo time!'
<Muffled> Mot? OW!

(NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! <Weeps>)

It's going to be different without Boy9.
Very different. Bed times will be nearly an hour shorter.
Team Parent (yay!) won't be out numbered and that really, really, really, makes a difference.
I won't have to make his boring, always, ham, no matter what I sneak into his sandwiches, he just picks it out, lunch for a week.
The effect on the laundry will minimal however as Boy9 insists on being very economic with clothes. Except his football stuff. That Boy9 likes to wear as quickly and as often as possible. And then get muddy. Really muddy.
My stress levels I imagine will be lower as I'll spend less time arguing with a tiny version of myself.
Meal times will be less of a verbal, and attritional, battle. We can have rice and pasta.
We could even have sauces on the food! #LivingTheDream
There'll be less rushing Boy9 back and forth to clubs morning and night.
It will be a nice break for Team Parent (yay!) to be honest.

But don't get me wrong.
If I'm looking kind of dazzled. I see neon lights...
We're gonna miss the little smegger Boy9 a lot.
All of us....

Miss6: <Shakes head>
You will...
Miss6: <Goes into Boy9's room and starts playing with his toys>
Miss6: <Has great fun>
<Joins Miss6>
<Has great fun>

I'm sure I will miss him.
In a few days. Once the novelty of not being ninja attacked from behind every door has worn off. Once the quiet gets boring. And there's no one to physically drag away from the computers. He is my little dude. We are buds.
Most of the time.
Boy9 has a huge presence in the house and whatever effect that has on us all, there is going to be a big presence missing whilst he is away.
<Wipes away tear Cleans up after lacrimation>

The night before Boy9 left.
I found something that really hammered home to me just how big Boy9 actually is.
That despite how big Boy9 acts, and of course is trying to be, like his Dad.
Underneath all the shouty and posturing, and swaggering, and rudeness, and fun (there's loads of fun), and funny. There's just a nine year old boy.
Hell the cats older than him (and he's an idiot) (the cat that is).
Nine isn't much at all, really.
And he's off on his own, without any of Team Parent (yay!), for seven whole days.
What on earth were we thinking???

I know he'll be fine.
There's teachers I trust with him there. Lots of safety, and health. The lot.
I’m not worried. I am happy he is going.

(You have my complete trust…
See you at the gig…
<Does rock hand>)

On the radiator the night before he left.
(Yes I’m still talking about that bit). I noticed something drying. Waiting to be packed.
Boy9's teddy. Freshly washed and stitched up by Mrs. Amazing.
Bless. (for reference there's nothing wrong with having a teddy. I've four hundred one. And I’m utterly normalatoning).
But it reminded me of just how little he still was. Is.
I imagine when he eventually falls asleep each night. Boy9 might hugging his teddy tight.
And he might, might even think of us. At home. Waiting for him.
<Shakes fist> He better!

It's gonna be a long week.
<Grumbles> Stupid awesome-school-trip-for-a-week...