Elf Pom-Poms...

Yay it’s Christmas.

Seriously. I wuve it. (I also may have been talking to BabyBoy2 too much lately, ‘Wook Daddy! Wook!’, bless ‘im).

This maybe our second year of the kindness elf.

(Not Elf on a shelf). Then again it may not be two years. As Christmas approaches we, Team Parent (yay!), get more knackered than normal. We stay up later laying kicking lyrics wrapping. Over sampling Brie and Jack Daniels the local produce. And basically doing lots more things than normal, whilst trying to organise a billion presents for everyone…

So Miss5 is getting this for Boy9?

<Holds up diamond encrusted football (not true)>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘And Boy9 is getting this for BabyBoy2’

<Holds up a real fire engine (not true)>

Cool. And what’s BabyBoy2 getting Miss5?

Mrs. Amazing: ‘We’ve done that one haven’t we?’

No… I think. Hang on… No it’s this…

<Holds up huge bag of pom-poms (not true)>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Oh yes.. Wait isn’t that red bag stuff?’

Is it? … <Looks at all the wrapping that involve>

No. No that’s her ‘main’ from BabyBoy2.

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Sure?’

Yes <Is firm> Without doubt. One hundred percent… <Is fibbing>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘OK...’ <Is suspicious>

<Holds up cup>

Who is this for, and who is giving it?

Mrs. Amazing: ‘That is for me. From you!’

Huh?

Mrs. Amazing: ‘That’s my tea…’

<Both giggle>

And because of all that.

My memory gets a bit crapper. So please forgive me if I am wrong. I kind of think I am. But Mrs. Amazing, who I would normal ask, has already headed off to Bedfordshire, and is very un-askable right now.

All clear? Good.

(Mrs. Amazing: ‘Right.. I better get going… It takes three hours to get to Bedfordshire’

You sure you can’t just go upstairs? And use our bed?

Mrs. Amazing: <Shakes head>)

Our second year of the kindness Elf (maybe).

And it’s been going mostly well. The kids wake each morning and head down stairs and find our Elf. Mistletoe. Well except BabyBoy2 as he’s still in a cage cot. Which most of the time he cannot escape from. Except when given a bit of help from an elder sibling by tilting the rocking chair in and a death defying stretch we hate them doing. But mostly he’s where we left him in the morning.

And I say it's gone well about the Elf. But we’ve had a few scrapes. As it were…

[Monday, 6:30 am]

Miss5: ‘Morning!’

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Morning’

<Silence, but essentially well wishes are projected out>

Miss5: ‘I WONDER what Mistletoe has done this morning!’ <Skips off>

Mrs. Amazing: <Urgently> ‘... Did you do the Elf last night?’

<Silence, but essentially some supportive and constructive ideas are occurring>

<And a small head shake> no

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Reindeer crap!’ <Dashes off to weave some hasty magic>

<More silence and is glad the problem has sorted itself out>

Yeah... not my finest hour.

Most days. But I was knackered. Mrs. Amazing though was brilliant. She thought of a way out of this.

Damn she’s good.

I got woken up, again, ten minutes later.

This time by Mrs. Amazing (and yes I got up this time).

I took the very sweet and lovely cup of tea I was presented with (ow my hands, can it not go on the side? No? Oh… Ow).

And listened to Mrs. Amazing’s master stroke…

Mrs. Amazing: ‘I have put a chocolate coin next to your side of the bed’

Excellent <Blows pain giving hands>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘It is not for eating’

Oh… <Puts coin back>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘There’s one my side of the bed, one in Miss5’s room, Boy9’s room and BabyBoy2’s room. I am putting Mistletoe here...’

<Puts Elf next to my chocolate coin>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘When the kids come up, pretend you know nothing’

<Looks blank>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘This is what Mistletoe did last night! And she hid in our room!’

<Looks blank>... I won’t let you down

Genius huh!

Kids found Mistletoe eventually. Found chocolate. All very brilliant. Mrs. Amazing you quick thinking genius.

Elf magic still alive. Boom POW!

Of course the person doing the best at keeping the magic alive.

Is Boy9. He’s nine. He’s not silly.

Well he is. He’s very silly actually. He’s nine.

But he has definitely started questioning the world enough to start questioning the Elf and her hiding. Each night.

In fact he outright asked Mrs. Amazing on it. She deflected well. And Boy9’s curiosity seems to be sated. For now. As sometimes when asking a question you realise you don’t actually want to know the answer. And Boy9’s in that middle ground where he really wants to believe in magic and the awesome things that happen without reason. Yet he’s growing up and learning stuff as well.

Which in many ways conflict.

Got me money saved up… <Pats wallet> Gonna go get me a Speeder Bike

Boy9: ‘What? A Lego one?’

Nope! <Fans out monopoly loads of money> A real one! Like in Return of the Jedi!

Boy9: <Sighs> ‘Dad! For the final time they don’t exist, they are not real! It’s from a movie!’

My mate Ed-Who-Sucks-At-Tiddly-Winks-Golf has got one...

Boy9: ‘No he hasn’t’

Well... <Shifty eyes> He said he had had a go one… once… <Trails off>

Boy9: ‘No he didn’t. NOT REAL’ <Shakes head>

…  <Wells up a little>

Yeah! Well!!! I didn’t ask to be your Dad! <Storms off>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Yeah he did… he was quite sweet about it...’

I think if it was just Boy9 on his own.

A lot of the magic would have been revealed. As it were. The pretence would have dropped a bit.

But Boy9 is a lovely big brother. And he gets so involved and caught up in making it magic for Miss5, who in turn then draws BabyBoy2 in too. That it helps him carry on believing. Well that’s what I think is going on anyway.

He may just be doing it for the chocolate.

Either’s fine with me.

BabyBoy2 is just starting to notice the Elf.

He is loving it. Sorry wuving it. So cute.

He doesn’t really understand what the Elf is doing I think. But he’s definitely loving the mad crap he's finding each morning in the house. And there’s often chocolate involved. Which he also wuves.

No idea where he gets that from…

<Thinks about putting down chocolate bar, and saving it for later…>

<Doesn’t>

(If any chocolatiers out there are looking to sponsor a Dad blogger…

Pie makers? Cake sellers? Star Wars toy makers? Landlords?)

Miss5 however loves the Elf.

She’s is the perfect age for this particular brand of madness magic. For Christmas in general. It is going to be brilliant with her this year.

I would truly love to know what is going on her mind about the Elf at the moment.

Can you imagine or remember a time in your life where Christmas Elves were utterly, utterly, real. Because no one. None of your mates. No peers. No one. Has even doubted their existence yet to you? I can’t.

I am not saying I don’t believe. I do. Until I see proof either way, I'm playing it safe. Obv.

But my belief is at least tempered with a healthy bit of ‘but it might be bollocks tosh’. That’s what being an adult is as far as I can tell.

Hedging your bets.

Anyhoo…

Mistletoe (our Elf).

Has some classic moves. Which may only be two years classic. Which isn’t very classic. But as I said at the earlier, I can’t really remember. And they feel classic to me.

There’s the toilet paper over the tree and furniture. Which is awesome fun.

There’s pants in the tree (that’s undergarments for those of you left of the pond, not trousers).

Toilet covered in wrapping paper.

And my personal favourite ‘Hide the bau...

<Memory finally clicks into places>

Yes!!! Lots more than two years we’ve done this.  

‘Hide the baubles’ A classic! Mistletoe hides lots of small baubles around the house and it takes the kids most of the day to find them.

<Has second thoughts about it being more than two years>

Oh holly sticks.

Lets just say there’s been two to five year range where Mistletoe has visited and be done with it and I’ll ask Mrs. Amazing in the morning.

OK? <Isn’t asking>

(Do pom-poms have to enter every single facet of our lives?

Miss5: ‘Yep’ <Does Super-Girl pose>

Mrs. Amazing: <Nods>)

Only thing is.

This year Mistletoe hid pom-poms. Not baubles. Not the normal shiny red baubles.

Nope. This year Mistletoe hid very cute, fluffy, look like baubles, but are really pom-poms on a string.

And because every now and then Team Parent (yay!) kind of forget what Miss5 is like with pom-poms.

This happened...

[Monday, 6:30 am]

Miss5: ‘Morning!’

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Mor...’

Miss5: ‘Mummythere’sapom-pomhangingonyourbed!!!’

Mrs. Amazing: ‘ning’

Miss5: ‘I bet there’s more’ <Races off>

[Ten beautiful sleep filled minutes later]

Miss5: <Is creeping around our room looking for more pom-poms and putting them in the bag she has got from her room (Her pom-pom collecting bag)>

We have a quick word with Miss5.

And point out that when Boy9 wakes (he is actually sleeping in a bit now! Halle-smegging-lujah!). He is going to be a bit chanked off that someone has already been round collecting all the pom-poms up.

Without him…

Miss5: <Looks down at her bag of freshly collected pom-poms>

Miss5: <Grins sweetly> Opps! I’ll put them back <Still grinning sweetly>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Go and check your room for pom-poms and let the rest of the house wake up’

<Turns on light and sits up>

<Agrees wholeheartedly with all that has transpired, but does it through the magic of silence and minimal eyes open-age>

<Wishes the light was off>

Team Parent (yay!) slowly awoke and got the day going.

We had just got out of bed and were running to the kettle when Miss5 came back in…

Mrs. Amazing: ‘What’s wrong? Did you find any?’

Miss5: ‘Yes… seven’ <A bit confused and disappointed>

Miss5: ‘Seven?’ <Gives me a ‘You said you put one in each of their rooms look’>

<Gives back a ‘I did, I only put one in each of their rooms’ look>

<Gives me a ‘Are you sure?’>

<Gives back a ‘Yes, yes for sure. One each!’ look>

<All look a bit confused>

It takes Team Parent (yay!) a few moments to work out what has happened here.

The big clue is that it’s Miss5 we’re talking to here.

You ask most people how many pom-poms are in their room. Most people answer none. (Not all people I grant you).

Miss5 didn’t find the one pom-pom Mistletoe put in her room until much later on that day.

The seven she did find however.

Are always there. They are hers. They are part of her room.

No wonder she looked so confused at us.

Merry Christmas!

X

P.S. This is our second year of being visited by that chocolate stealing Elf Mistletoe. Mrs. Amazing confirmed. I need more sleep.

Bye Bye 'Tiny Baby' Chapter...

BabyBoy1 has had his hair (+1 alliteration point) cut.

For the very first time.

Boo.

That's his baby curls gone and they will never come back.

If you don't know. Baby curls are a one time deal. Boy8, Miss4 and now BabyBoy1 had baby curls. But once they were cut that was it, gone. All three monkeys now pretty much have straight hair. Well except Miss4's with her mad frizz hair explosion she has sometimes. But that's more down to length and golden syrup in her hair.

A common sweet problem in our house.

(Nectar of the children... Seriously...)

Why am I sad the baby curls have gone?

Well. They’re hella cute. They are!

And like so many magical things babies seem to be able to do. The curls in their hair are a one time deal. Which is why you sometimes see 1-2 year olds with ridiculously long hair. Blindly stumbling about not being able to see through their ridiculously long hair.

Team Parents (yay!) have been clipping up BabyBoy1’s hair for a while now (with hair clips, not shears), constantly sweeping it out of his eyes, and even tying it up in bobble.

I know. We are monsters.

But were big softies too. (Think Sully).

Because BabyBoy1 is definately the last of Team Parents (yay!) children. And it’s with quite a lot a bit of nostalgia we've been putting off cutting his curls. For ages quite some time.

For me it felt that once BabyBoy1's talisman of being a baby, his curls, were gone that was it. He wasn't a baby any more, he was officially a toddler.

The ‘Tiny Baby’ chapter of our lives is over.

And he definitely is a toddler.

As he walks, he toddles. It's just that with the curls it was easier to fool myself that this amazing, lovely and wonderful ‘Tiny Baby’ chapter of my life wasn't finished.

<Weeps man tears>

I've really loved the ‘Tiny Baby’ chapter of my life.

It's been going on for eight years or so now. Which is a long time. I've plants that are younger than that. I’ve made enemies in that time. I had a lot more hair then when we started this chapter. So I hope you understand me when I say I am going to miss it.

Yes I know, babies cry a lot and there's poo everywhere, and there's no sleep, and your brain turns slightly to mush and the things that got you into this situation, nookie, becomes as scarce as nights out. And there’s no sleep. Did I mention the lack of sleep? There's no sleep.

I still loved every single moment of it.

They're so cute and fluffy!

Yeah I know.

Best not post that submission to 'Butchest Man of Year Awards' just yet. Best leave it in it's drawer and burn it later.

Fine! But what's wrong with liking tiny humans? Someone's gotta or we wouldn't get very far as a species. Is it only women that get to like babies and all their tiny brilliant things?

<Sigh>

Tell you what I'll go chop some wood, that'll realign my butch levels to a more socially acceptable state. HAPPY?

<Comes back in tears>

<Whimpers and shows ow-ey>

(HEY! Who's been pissing about with my life book?)

(Mannn... The pages are all bend out of shape...)

Hair-wise, it all to came to a head a week ago.

(Yep! joke on purpose, and it ain't likely to get better than that, job done...

<Packs up and goes home>

<Is already at home so just carries on>)

Turns out I am not the most observant sometimes. Yeah it’s true.

Visually I can miss things around the house that Mrs. Amazing is very aware of...

'It's a bit drab in here now...'

<Looks about>

Is it?

<Keeps looking but cannot see anything that has changed>

Curtains?

<Shakes head>

Hair cut?

‘No’

New pictures on the wall?

‘No’

New top? New jeans? New socks? New shoes?

‘No, no, no, yes please no’

I give... What's changed?

<Honestly can't see what has changed in the house since this morning>

‘I took the Christmas decorations down you idiot’

Ohhhhhh... Shiiiiit

It's does look drab in here

<Gets hit with a cushion>

Hair length of the kids is one of those things I can be inclined to miss.

Unless there's been a drastic change, of course.

Cool Mohawk

Miss4: ‘Thanks Dad’

<Scream from Mrs. Amazing in the kitchen>

So whilst on some level I knew that BabyBoy1's hair was too long. It wasn't ringing alarm bells. So I ignored it.

Other people though. Other people were less tactful or dumb...

Rando: ‘What a pretty little girl you have’

He's a boy

‘What's her name’

HE is called Frank (he's really called BabyBoy1)

‘That's a strange name for a girl’

Yes that would be a mental strange name for a girl

That's because he is a BOY!

<Points at the boy style jeans, digger top, boy shoes and the sign I drew that says 'HE'S A BOY'>

‘Oh!’

‘...’

‘Why are you dressing your daughter as a boy?’

We're hoping to get on Jeremy Kyle

A bet

For laughs... BYEEE...

<Storms off>

Twice! that happened in one day.

Not word for word the same you understand, but BabyBoy1 getting mistaken for a girl.

There's no sexist thingy going on here at all. I don't care which way round it is, boy for a girl, girl for a boy. Parklife.

It's that using the wrong sex grammar will feel like a knife in my heart no matter what I say, they carry on regardless.

What they see is what, well, all they see.

Even if I repeatedly tell them otherwise.

<Whilst pointing at BabyBoy1>

Boy. Boy. Boy. Boy. Boy. Boyboyboyboyboyboy!

Rando: ‘She's cute isn't she?’

Anyhoo...

I wasn't there for the curl removing.

I was at work. yay. Mrs. Amazing did it during the day, when BabyBoy1 was stationary for a few moments. TV. Mrs. Amazing did a marvellous job and he looks utterly cute and just like pinocchio a real little boy. Hella cute.

Weirdly Mrs. Amazing left all the trimmed hair on my bed side table (by accident) for me to see, felt a bit Godfather to be honest.

<Watches back and refuses to eat in an Italian restaurant forever>

Still it's my own fault BabyBoy1 had his hair cut.

Mrs. Amazing had just combed BabyBoy1’s hair whilst a bit wet. His curls had gone straight from the dampness and well...

<BabyBoy1 runs by shouting happily>

He looks… <Thinks>

He looks...  ridiculous

<Nods in agreement>

(Before the trim…)

(In our defence it was Christmas and the Elf outfit was apt. APT! <Shakes fist>)

… and he did. He looked ridiculous. Like a little hairy bluebell.

But not in the cool way. (Yes there is one).

Mrs. Amazing reasoned. Quite rightly as well. That if even I, yes EVEN I, 'King of Lack Of Observation’, Sir. BarnDoorMissingSeeingMan, notices that BabyBoy1 looks a bit daft...

...then it's probably time to trim the baby curls.

Boo. 

Bye bye ‘Tiny Baby’ chapter in my life.

It was really, really fun.

<Tears escapes due to… err.. stuff>

<Closes metaphorical book on 'Tiny Baby' chapter>

<Walks off humming ‘Cats in the cradle’>

<Runs back, reopens book, and folds down the first page of the 'Tiny Baby' chapter for later>

I'll be back! ...

... In hopefully about twenty years... After Uni at least! 

Can’t wait!

<Runs off to play in the pub>