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!).
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Showing posts with label Miss5. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miss5. Show all posts

5 February 2017

Finally... Miss6 Arrives!

It seems Miss5 has been around for ages.
But she's finally been stretched a bit, stuffed full of information and knowledge, and sadly been given a jaw-bone-speed upgrade.
Miss6 has arrived!
<Whoops, hollers, fires gun in the air>
<Gets arrested as guns are illegal where I live>

How's it feel to be six then?
Miss6: 'Good'
Yeah? How so?
Miss6: 'I get proper Lego now' (Not Duplo)
That is good for all of us. Anything else?
Miss6: 'I can dance brilliantly'
Let's see...
<Dances like a Tazmanian Devil possessed by me during Come on Eileen Michael Flatley>
I'm speechless... My moves! You thief!
Miss6: 'My bedtime is a lot later!'
No it's not. And it never will be until you stay in bed until 6:30am <Gives look>
Miss6: 'Oh'
Not 5:30am!...
You can read now! That's good...
Miss6: 'Oh yeah...' <Doesn't really care> 'I can do this too...' <Blinks weirdly>
Oh... Is that helpful? More so than reading?
Miss6: <Shrugs>
Any Superpowers yet?
Miss6: 'The blinking?'
So... no.
<Both a bit disappointed>
I’ll tell you one good thing about being six?
Miss6: 'Yeah'
Well I don't flatten you quite so badly when I bundle you now...
Miss6: 'Yeah heh heh... No! Wait!’
Miss6: <Is bundled>

Six is still fine.
I'm not worried yet. Six is still young and sweet. Six is still finding about the world.
Six is still learning from all around you. Six is not a concern. Six is lovely.
I'll worry about the future when it rocks up.
Especially as my main job right now. What I must be doing for Miss6, right now.
As I see it.
Is setting a high standard of men for her...
<Straightens Mickey Mouse tie>
<Wipes mud off work trainers>
<Puts down Lego>
<Bursts into song with actions>
<Manages to contain self for a ten seconds minute>
<Bursts into song with actions>

And no.
I am not worrying about standards for her picking a mate. Marriage etc.
I believe that is going to have very little to do with me. As it should.
Team Parent (yay!) may end paying for stuff. And I may end mumbling through a speech. Which I may have already been working on for six years.
No.
I am instead thinking of the man standard I would like Miss6 to use to evaluate every man she meets. Yeah... that standard.
<Crumples from the pressure>

I want Miss6 to meet men and make the big decisions herself.
Twit or not?
Shields up or down?
Sexist or human?
Berk or Outcast Island?
Sane or fun?
Marvel or DC?
Wars or Trek?
Bow or Sword?
Cake or Bacon? (both Obv.)
Wang or Wang-Ker?
Smegger or dude?

(Really? ... No mentioned this! CRAAAAAP!)

So six is fine.

Now. It may not come across in what I write.
But I find it hard not to get all squishy when writing about Miss5. (There’s a lot I edit out).
She is my only little girl. Which makes her special+ to me. Boys I've loads of (two).
But daughters I have but one.
And she’s amazing to me. And quite, quite, mad magic.
Obv. Don't tell her any of this.
She'll be unbearable...

Miss5: 'You think I'm magic' <Is dancing around me>
Whatev's! When you're quiet... Which never happens!...
Miss5: 'You think I'm amazing' <Now just doing death-attack-poses around me>
There's moments, sometimes... They pass... I can recall NONE right now...
Miss5: 'Really? Oh no!' <Tears well up and she slinks to the floor>
Oh don't cry shop girl I'm only joking around. I do think you're amazing and magic...
Miss5: <Pops up with beaming smile and more dance moves> 'You think I'm magic! You think I'm amazing!

Also I've learnt loads from Miss5.
Miss5 has shown me the world through her eyes. It's very different. It's been mental.
There's a lot pigeonholing-condescending-glass-ceiling-making-sexist-smeggers out there.
I'm ashamed to say I hadn't really seen them all until now.
But Miss5 has made them stand out for me...
Miss6: 'This one' <Points>
You sure?
Miss6: 'Yep. He believes that only women cook'
What an utter bottom head snot face!
Miss6: <Giggles>
More cake?
Miss6: <Is already eating>

Nor have I ever noticed there were so many colours in the world.
How is that the wrong red? It's red?
Miss5: <Head shake> 'See, I meant this red!' <Show me two identical crayons>
Oh yeah... Very different… <Is lying>

And I’ve always believed that telling a story is a finite thing.
No so with Miss5. No so.
Why end the story? Because the listener has expired.
Why restrict yourself to point as well?
I've so much to learn.

Anyhoo...
Miss4 was magic. Miss5 rocked.
Miss6, I imagine, is going to be even more awesome, magic and rocky.
<Crosses fingers>

(What you drawing Miss6?
… <Looks>...
Hang on!… these are the Death Star plans?
<Is hit over the head and knocked out>)

As normal. I'll avoid a puke inducing-gush-list about Miss5.
And instead here's some stuff you probably didn't know...

1. Miss5 stopped claiming all farts
<Weeps>
Miss4 did. It was great. Really helpful.
But Miss5 did not. Shame. She has been less fart-karmically enlightened this year.
Instead Miss5 does shifty eyes when questioned on nearby smells.
Which is hilarious. Just like her Dad...
<Does shifty eyes>
<Regrets the shift eyes as have now put doubt on my parentage>
<Looks for receipt>

2. Team D is the greatest team ever
I've worked really hard over the last year to bond more with Miss5.
It seems to have worked. <Fist pumps>
And Team D - Daddy & Daughter - frikkin' rock...
<Whispers to Miss5> Team D - Best team ever!!!...
Mrs. Amazing: 'What was that? Better than Team Parent (yay!)?'
Noooo! Team Parent (yay!) is my fav...
Mrs. Amazing: 'Fine!' <Leaves making sure I notice how un-fine it is>
Boy9: <Appears looking hurt> 'I thought Team Ninja-Nerf-Minecraft-Wars was your favourite?'
IT IS! Well...
BabyBoy2: <Hugs my leg> 'SAM!'
Yes I love Fireman Sam too matey!... Dude... <Is in trouble and knows it>
Miss5: <Is doing the Team D dance, third movement>
You're not helping you know!

3. Miss5 rhymed a lot
Miss5 loves to rhyme. Miss5 cloves to clime.
Like that. It's my fault because I join in and probably start it. <Does shifty eyes>
It's become a way for us to talk now. A way for us to malk now.
It's kinda of hard to stop - hard to pop - once you get going - punce you get mowing.
I blame that 'step on a crack marry a bat' rhyme. Despite it’s wiseyness and educational value.
We just expanded it. Perpanded it a bit. In a Miss5 way.
Obvs. it's hella funny. But it does have it's dangers. Have it's crangers.
So from experience, meriance, here is my lost of words to avoid: Duck, gunner, plank, armpit,  bunting and parcel.
Yeah... really didn't hear the bunting one coming...

4. Miss5 hides a lot
In fact she loves to hide. Especially when I am trying to get her to do something. Brush teeth. Brush hair. Get dressed. Leave for school. Off she darts into the next room and then BANG! she's gone. Well SILENCE! she's gone.
Normally midway through me talking.
Under the bed, behind a door, under a desk, in a cupboard, behind a chair. In a tiny nook no one else could get into.
She is small and can squeeze into tiny places. And with all that hair as camouflage.
Miss5 can be like an mimic octopus (see ‘Octonauts and the mimic Octopus’)
One minute she’s there...
WHERE ARE YOU? <Is amazed>
Miss5: 'I'm here!'
WHERE? <Starts swishing the air with hands>
Miss5: 'Here!'
I Can't see you! ARRGHGGHGHH! Who's flicking my tummy!
Miss5: <Morphs out of the surroundings predator stylie> 'Me Daddy!'
<Covers self in mud>
<Is a teeny bit scared>

5. Miss5 can swim 10m
Without doubt. This is the single greatest thing I've done all year.
I helped teach Miss5 to swim. And she got her 10m badge. We did that together. Me and her.
I'm hella proud of her (and me). Swimming with Miss5 very quickly became a huge highlight of my week. I can't believe I ever let anyone else do it.
LET ALONE PAY THEM TO DO IT! DOH!
I'm not even good at it. I'm not. I try. But who cares, we have such fun! Just us two.
It's hella special.

6. Miss5 has picked a favourite Queen song
Some people agonise over this choice for years.
I do. Some never settle on a tack.
'Don't Stop Me Now' is where I'll normally settle. And then change my mind.
But at the young age of five. Miss5 made a choice. It's a big choice. A complex choice.
She’s gone with ‘Killer Queen’.
I'm hella scared, it's like she's warning us all already, ARGHGHGGH RUN FOR THE HILLS HELL HARPIE ON THE LOOSE impressed.

Bye Miss5.
It was delightful (if not a tad emotional... see this <Shudders>).
I was a real honour. Ya loon.

(You got the wallets?
Miss6: ‘Obvs!’
Good girl! <Runs too>)

[Is putting Miss6 to bed after a lovely birthday]
How's it feel being six then?
Miss6: 'I liked being five...' <Is a bit grumpy about it>
You did rock it
<We fist bump and da-da-da-daaaa>
I'm sure six will be even more fun <Crosses fingers>
Miss6: <Looks doubtful>
Imagine all the new, crazy, games and things we'll be able to do, together, now you're six!
Miss6: <Imagines it>
I KNOW! Night!
<Runs off to make dangerous plans>

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19 January 2017

Goodbye Christmas (Until Next Time You Sexy Holiday You)...

Christmas is finally done and gone. <Weeps>
The tree is down and the sitting room suddenly seems huge again.
The fairy lights have mostly gone from the house (Team Parent (yay!) are keeping theirs).
And I, personally, have dealt with all that nasty chocolate that was hanging about the place...

Mrs. Amazing: 'Where's all the chocolate gone?' <Checks cupboard>
Mrs. Amazing: <Checks the more biscuity-chocolate cupboard>
Mrs. Amazing: 'Have you hidden it?'
Mrs. Amazing: <Checks secret chocolate stash cupboard that I always forget about>
Mrs. Amazing: 'Seriously there was loads? What's happened to it all?'
Mrs. Amazing: <Finds me sprawled out on the floor, chocolate all around my face, wrappers everywhere>
Mrs. Amazing: 'You haven't? ... All of it?' <But already knows the answer>
You're welcome...
Mrs. Amazing: <Tuts>
I feel sick...
Mrs. Amazing: 'I am not surprised... on all accounts'
<Burps>
(Don’t be so damn rude and show respect to your father
<Is bounced on>)

The decorations are down.
And sat in boxes waiting to be carried up stairs and into the loft. Which I am putting off as it's really cold up there.
And as jobs go, it sucks. We have a narrow loft hatch which means pushing boxes up with my face whilst holding on for dear life, one handed.
I do things that are more fun.
But a bit of me is concerned that Team Parent (yay!) may incur the dreaded decorations-still-up bad luck that is the scourge of those that celebrate Xmas the world over.
<Shudders> <Stubs toe>
But also I'm pretty sure we will be fine as 'technically' they are down. No-one ever said the decs need to be packed up and away in the loft.
In a lump at the bottom of the stairs I am sure is fine.
Except for when BabyBoy2 walks by.
As he tends to picks something up. And then demands to read it...

BabyBoy2: 'WOOK!' <Grabs Father Christmas book>
BabyBoy2: 'Ho-Ho!' <Points at Father Christmas>
<Pisses self laughing and hopes BabyBoy2 doesn't pick up a Katie Price in the library anytime soon...>
<Chuckles> Yeah mate! Ho-Ho!...
BabyBoy2: 'Me read it?' <Head tilt, irresistible cute-a-rama>
... Sure! But it's almost packed away! I'd love to...

For Xmas I took two weeks off work.
Bliss. That's what I do / have done every year [now]. It's how I choose to spend my precious work holiday.
At home for Christmas surrounded by loonatics loved ones.
Playing. Getting jumped on. Being a horse. Dancing the days away. Shooting Boy9 over and over with Nerf bullets. Ah ha ha ha.
I would happily light-contact ninja dance-fight anyone to a bit of a bruise death if they tried to stop me doing so.
Grr.

I think of that time as catching up.
Catching up with Boy9, Miss5 and BabyBoy2. And Mrs. Amazing. Obv. All my -toys- stuff.
And the house I work so much to afford, but mostly only seem to visit to sleep in.
In those two weeks I get so many jobs done that have been buggin' me all year. I try and visit all my friends.
It's either my reward to myself for a hard worked year, or bribery to convince me to start another.
And time for myself.
Time for stock checking.
Smelling the roses...

<Sniffs> These stink? How old are these?
Mrs. Amazing: 'They're as old as when you last brought me flowers!'
Oh... Doesn't matter... <Leaves>

... Time for chilling out...

Oy Boy9! Shut the door! Were you born in a barn? <Shakes fist>
Please shut the door behind you! <Un-clenches fist but still shakes> <Is waving>
Boy9: <Nods but clearly doesn't mean it> <Waves back>
<Shuts door> <Mutters>
Miss5: <Opens door and runs outside to -be upset by Boy9- dance> <Doesn't shut door>
Oy Miss5! Shut the door behind you please!
Miss5: <Ignores me>
<Shuts door> <Mutters more>
BabyBoy2: 'Daddy pwease?' <Is trying, but failing to open the door>
<Opens door for BabyBoy2> <Closes it behind him>
<Watches BabyBoy2 runs off and then runs back, opens the door, and then jar it open>
Oh no! Jam everywhere!
<Gives up and goes back to bed under one million duvets to warm up>

(Cow: ‘And keep this door open… Were you born in a house?’)

I match the kid's holiday.
When they break up for Xmas. So do I.
And it was lovely. It felt ages (almost a year) since I had last been able to just sit and play day after day. We had so much fun.
And it was a delight to be there for BabyBoy2. Who frikkin' loved suddenly having his Daddy there all day to play.
Naive Fresh faced and eager to do so.

And of course BabyBoy2 this Christmas was brilliant.
Still experiencing Christmas for the first few times. Gorgeous.
As Boy9 and Miss5 sent their (probably a bit late, but flume post seems quick) letters off to Father Christmas. BabyBoy2 watched.
Wondered what the hell was going on...

BabyBoy2: <Thinks> Why is Boy9 and Miss5 putting their drawings (letters) in the fire? Why is Daddy taking photos of it? I am so doing that later with whatever paper I find! Wooohooo!

Boy9 and Miss5's requests had been guided.
So expectations were managed and very achievable. One big / key thing each.
Team Parent (yay!) had put effort into this and our reward was watching the letters burn, knowing Father Christmas wouldn't disappoint (or have to spend a fortune). BabyBoy2 obviously asked for nothing, as he's two and a blob.
What more could he need than his loving family?

BabyBoy2: 'Fireman outfit, that cake' <Points> 'And I really think I should be allowed to drive now'
What? <Wasn't listening>
BabyBoy2: 'Me cake?'
Sure <Shares cake>

On Christmas Eve BabyBoy2 watched more madness.
He watched us put down some booze for Father Christmas (that old soak). A mince pie. And a carrot for the reindeer.
I say carrot but they had all gone into a stew the night before. We had celery. We had special Christmas celery which I confirmed reindeer love, and is just as special and magical as a carrot.
And of course we only put down the one carrot (read celery). Which is weird.
There are at least twelve reindeer. Maybe thirteen. Depends on how modern you are.
Yet we leave one carrot. One between twelve/thirteen reindeer. Which are not small creatures.
Do they fight it out for the carrot. Is one of them, Dancer I presume, who's let him/her self go and found comfort in food, and is now huge and bashes the others out of the way with his/her antlers and gut. Grabbing every carrot and wolfing it down. Whilst Father Christmas is necking the brandy / white wine / beer.
Surely we should put out twelve carrots?
I digress...
BabyBoy2 watched us all set this up. Listened to the carrot / celery debate.
And then we all explained to him what was going to happen.
First Mrs. Amazing with my backup. Then Boy9 who could tell BabyBoy2 was looking confused.
Then Miss5. Because talking.
Then Team Parent (yay!) again to clear up the message that gotten confused.
I am not entirely sure he understood...

Tonight... Father Christmas and his reindeer are going to land on our house <Is using 'magic stuff is going on' voice>
BabyBoy2: '...'
They're going come down the chimney and trespass
BabyBoy2: '...' <Looks suspicious>
Leave presents for us all. Have a drink, a nibble and then bugger off go
BabyBoy2: '...'
BabyBoy2: 'That's utterly nuts'
That's Christmas. Shhh.. Just go with it. You'll get presents
BabyBoy2: 'Deal'

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Epilogue:

Mrs. Amazing: 'Let's have some cheese and crackers!'
Bonza!
Mrs. Amazing: <Checks fridge> 'Where's all the Stilton gone?'
<Looks at own stomach>
Mrs. Amazing: '... And the Brie? We can't be out of Cheddar as well... ?'
<Rubs sore tummy> <Hides cracker plate under sofa>
Mrs. Amazing: 'Where HAS all the cheese gone?'
<Burps>
I feel really sick... <Groans> <Rubs tummy>
Mrs. Amazing: 'I am not smegging surprised! You fat bagger!'
It wasn't the cheese! It was the salad I had to wash down all the cheese
<Winces at tummy pain>
Mrs. Amazing: 'What salad?'
<Points at plate of eaten bacon>
Mrs. Amazing: 'BACON does not count as a salad'
It DOES at Christmas thank you very much. Christmas. Salad. <Points at Bacon plate>
Mrs. Amazing: 'Fine!' <Rolls eyes> 'I'll just have a bacon sarnie instead then!'
<Starts waddling off as quick as possible...>
Mrs. Amazing: 'Now then. Where's the bacon...?’

(Mrs. Amazing: ‘Now, I know it’s Christmas and all… But I feel you may have gone a bit overboard on the cheese...’
You don't want to eat it with me?
Mrs. Amazing: ‘I didn’t say that! ... Get the crackers’
Rodger!
Mrs. Amazing: ‘I doubt it... I’ll be too full...’)

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