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 dancing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dancing. Show all posts

8 March 2017

A Little Breakfast Magic...

Monday morning.
Yuk. And a change to the normal routine.
Mrs. Amazing is not taking BabyBoy2 and Boy9 with her as she heads off to save the world work.
Instead me and Miss6 have the dubious pleasure of their company.

Miss6 has requested pancakes.
In her nicest voice. I'd even been given a hug. Hell yeah I'm making pancakes.
We have pancakes a lot. On any day of the week. As it's a meal everyone will eat.
But Miss6 backed up pancake request with the argument that if we can pancakes on a Tuesday (Shrove Tuesday) we can have them on a Monday.
Fair enough.

Team Parent (yay!) only has one misgiving.
Time. As Monday Mrs. Amazing heads off early.
Still Miss6 did ask nicely. And I got an unforced or not-at-all-reluctant hug!
I head downstairs. Put awesome music on. Kettle on. Whisk pancake batter. Start cooking.
To save time I do three pans at once (oh yes, three). I've five to feed.
I ain't got no time for no one-pan crap.

Miss6: 'Daddy can you move this laundry for me'
<Is shuffling pans>... Hang on! <Flips pancake> <Shoves another pancake into oven to keep warm> <Pours batter, swirls>
... Yes?
Miss6: 'Can you move this...please'
Sure... Why don't you just walk around it?... <Glances over at frying pans>
Ok... Is that better?
Miss6: 'No'
<Moves it again> THERE? <Can see burning going on>
Miss6: 'N-o' <Sounds out the word>
Well h-e-r-e is where I am going to put it <Runs back to burning pancakes>
Mrs. Amazing: <Enters room> 'Oh! it's smokey in here'
Mrs. Amazing: <Opens every window everywhere>
<Hides pipe>
<Gives Miss6 quick, minor, evils>
Miss6: <Waves back>

(You know… <Looks at pancake batter>
I think this situation calls for Big Ol’ Beefy..
Boy9: ‘Ol' Beefy?’
Yep! Ol’ Bloody enormous-ENORMOUS frying pan)

I do three sizes of pancakes.
BabyBoy2 and Miss6 prefer small pancakes. It raises the Golden Syrup to pancake ratio I am sure. But also the bigger ones they struggle to cut up. And I'm fed up watching them shove the whole thing into their mouths at once and choking.
It's yuk.
Medium for Miss6 and Boy9. Miss6 likes variety.
And large pancakes for Boy9, Mrs. Amazing and me. Although all of Team Parent (yay!) will eat any size really.
However Miss6 has recently upgraded and now wants big pancakes.
So recent in fact. I did not know.
So as Boy9’s still not at the table. I give Miss6 of Boy9's large pancakes.
I am sure it will be fine.

Brainzilla: '... It won't though, will it?'
Lalalalala Not cooking anymore, it'll WILL be fine Lalalalala

Then Mrs. Amazing escapes leaves for the day.
Boy9 enters and sits...

[Sinister music plays]
[One millisecond has passed]
<Has to break up fight between Boy9 and Miss6. Apparently Miss6 was looking at him>
Miss6: 'I was looking at the trees outside'
OK... Move here. Look at trees. But most importantly EAT <Points at cold pancakes>
Boy9, I'll get your pancakes, just chill about Miss6, she was really looking at trees
<Isn't as convinced as I sound>
<Gets warming pancakes from oven>
<Wishes I had a cloth as this plate is really very hot>
<Is swapping hands quickly> Here ya go!
Boy9: 'These are small pancakes?' <As though I have suggested he lick the toilet>
All the big ones got eaten... <Doesn't mention it was Miss6>

Boy9 does not take this well.
But I calm him down. It's been a weekend of sickness and bugs. He is going to be on the edge of burning fury. I am prepared.
He calms. And begrudgingly eats the smalls pancakes.
I don't think I've ever seen anyone so offended at having to eat, small, fluffy pancakes covered in Golden Syrup.

That drama resolved.
I find BabyBoy2 and tell him has to ask to get down the from the table.

BabyBoy2: 'Sorwee Daddy, sorwee...' <Head down, brilliant, heartfelt sorry>
Dude! It's OK... <Gives hair ruffle> Just come back to the table and ask to get down...
BabyBoy2: <Goes back to table> <Starts eating more pancakes>
... <Didn't expect that>
<Sees Miss6 NOT eating> Miss6! EAT!
Miss6: <Starts furious eating>
[Two milliseconds later]
Miss6: <Stops eating>

Eventually.
And amazingly before the end of time itself. All three children have eaten enough pancakes.
BabyBoy2 twice. Top work that boy. Gold star.
Boy9 is fringe on how much he has eaten. But a sneaky banana next to him is soon consumed. Miss6’s full too.
The hatrick.

Right Team! <Smiles weirdly by accident>
Let's all empty the dishwasher together!
<Blank 'but we don't want to' faces all round>
I'll put rocking music on!!!
Boy9: 'F'Off'

No way.
I am not falling for this one. Letting them all go. I've cooked and served. I soothed and I've calmed. I am not being left with all the dishes to do. And there's some to put away. That I washed last night.
NO WAY!

Boy9 you pick a song...

I need Boy9 to buy into this.
The others look up to him, figuratively, speculatively and literally.
If Boy9 engages I've a pretty good chance with Miss6 and BabyBoy2 joining in.
Plus Boy9 likes rock. He picks 'Lukas Graham - Seven Years'.
Swing and a miss.

Great song.
Bad, bad choice for this moment. We need high tempo. Dancey music. I want to fill the room with sound and beats. If I can't boogie my way around the kitchen whilst I put away plates than what is the point.
Also the monkeys are more helpful when they are dancing about with me, putting stuff away.
However. I need Boy9. I reluctantly agree.
But then suddenly, and very suspiciously, Boy9 needs to use the toilet.
Seeing a chance to look doubly-good.
Miss6 brings her plate over...

... Thanks... But we gotta empty this first... <Opens dishwasher>
Miss6: <Mutters> 'Fairy poop'

I rule that Boy9 has missed his window.
Good. As he naffed off when everyone else started clearing plates.
Miss6 should have the next choice. As she did come straight over to help.
BabyBoy2 has arrived to help too.
<Removes all sharps from dishwasher>

(Boy9: Dad? Where does the sword-axe go?
Fifth stud from the right, between the knuckle-smasher…
And your mother’s weekend pike...)

But I am now on guard. And want to check what Miss6 may choose.
Just in case...

Miss6? If theoretically you were given the song choice, what would you go with?
Miss6: 'Trolls soundtrack!'
Oooooo... good choice... But we have already heard that today...
Twice… <Gives look>

I declare father-marshall-law and just pick something myself.
Something appropriate for how much I we all want to bounce around.
Also something I know we will all love. It only takes a few swipes on me phone to find something appropriate: Macklemore and Ryan Lewis - Can't Hold Us (it’s only link I could find that had the album version).

The track is only four minutes and eighteen seconds.
It's not long. And once it is done. Fights will break out.
Miss6 and Boy9 will come to loggerheads again. And again.
BabyBoy2 will have a right hissy fit over his socks.
And at some point I will ban Boy9 until the end of time from using the computer in the morning as he's so grumpy when gets off it. And for making Grannie Amazing wait.
Miss6 will forget she is supposed to be getting dressed for thirty minutes and make us late for school. And I am will be glad to get to work.
And I'm never glad to get to work.

But back... back before the rest of the morning happened.
As the first beat of 'Can't Hold Us' floated out of the speaker. As the opening drums thumped out and filled the air.
I cranked the volume up to twelve and the piano's melody started...
Boy9 appears out of the toilet.
Fist pumping.

I've arms up and I'm bouncing about.
We all are. Miss6 pretends to do the fast rapping. (It's hella cute). BabyBoy2 is fist pumping too. Moving with nought by raw passion.
Boy9's busts some excellent moves as winds his way over to us.
The joy of the music, mine, theirs, spreads and it builds on itself. Envelops us all.
Everyone is singing away. Not the right lyrics for most of us. BabyBoy2 is basically shouting stuff. But who cares!
Plates and cups are flying (safely) out of the dishwasher. And eight hands are making light work of a long job for one.
Whilst boogieing! (real word).

(All three children, and their combined help, represented, fairly I feel, as an octopus called Hank)

Miss6 is passing things to Boy9 that she cannot reach up to do.
Glasses. Mugs for tea. The precious stuff.
BabyBoy2 is carefully and lovingly included by Miss6 and Boy9 who leave things for him to do. Plastics mostly.
Miss6 stops what she is doing to guide him to the right cupboard.
<Replaces china bowl with plastic one in BabyBoy2's hands>
They're so busy I can sneakily siphon the dry washing up on the sink, into what we are all doing, so we do that too!
#WIN!

Miss6 changes to clearing the table and loading.
I didn't even ask. All with a boogie.
She clearly doesn't want this moment with the music to stop. Nor does Boy9, he's helping her.
I stop BabyBoy2 from unloading the dirty plates and explain we are now filling.
He gets it. Ish.

For that song.
We are all dancing and singing away. In our own way. In our own styles.
It's really quite beautiful.
My lovely little loons.
<Wipes away tear>

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21 June 2016

HELLO BabyBoy2!!!

It was BabyBoy1’s second birthday the other day.
He had the best day. He really did.
Cake. Party with mates. Cake. Tractor rides. Cake. Presents. Cake.
<Weeps and Hums cats in the cradle and murders rocks it on the guitar>

I think being two is the best birthday.
The cake is huge. It’s the only time in your life when you can double your age in one day.
And the difference between one and two is huge....

I’m going to the bar, want anything?
BoozyMate: ‘Two pints twathead mate
No no. You get one. Like everyone else. None of this two rubbish!
BoozyMate: ‘But you drink so slow!… Don’t make me watch you drink slowly. It’s cruel’
One.
BoozyMate: ‘Two’
How about shots instead?
BoozyMate: ‘Yes! Great plan!… And the two pints’
<Rolls eyes> Fine… But I’m gonna take a glug out of one and then backwash it into the other
BoozyMate: ‘…OK. Gross but fair...’

Also you get used to birthdays the more you have.
You start to get the concept…

First birthday: What just happened there? That was a weird day. Was that a one off? Should I say anything or does that stop it happening again? What was with the food on fire? Can eat this? Yes.

Second birthday: Well this is becoming a habit. Awesome. These toys rock btw. If this is regular like, can I make some requests? I’ve some present ideas for next year if you are struggling. Burning food again? I’ll eat this.

Third birthday: I have a list <Pulls out large list> and I have already eaten this. I feel sick.

(TADA!)

I think BabyBoy1 knew it was a special day.
As Team Parents (yay!) have been tidying everything for the last twenty four hours solid. The good coasters are out (the Star Wars ones, not the faded Pink Floyd ones). The perpetual mess has been hidden tidied away better than normal.
The lawn has been mown. I’ve strimmed the crap out everything. that is allowed to be strimmed.
Team Parents (yay!) have voluntarily taken toys outside and put them on the lawn. To be played with. Voluntarily. Madness.
And there's a tablecloth on the garden table...

What's that for? <Points at the table cloth> Worried the table will get cold? Ah ha haaaa haha!
Mrs. Amazing: 'Heh meh'
Has the table just gone through puberty and doesn't like being naked in public anymore?
Is this your new get-rich-quick scam plan of fashion clothes for tables?
How drunk were you last night? You missed Miss5's bed with this sheet by miles?
Mrs. Amazing: <Glances at watch> <Is used to waiting whilst I am being 'funny'>
Crap! That steam-roller victim’s ghost is back!
Mrs. Amazing: <Sits and start reading a magazine>
Dumbo called! He wants his hanky back!
What Boy8 mess are we covering up, this time?
Mrs. Amazing: 'AH! Now then…' <Peels back table cloth>
Oooooh! <Looks at pen-marks caused by Miss5>
Mrs. Amazing: 'During your watch I believe'
Smeg...
<Runs>

BabyBoy1 was awoken to us all singing him Happy Birthday.
Which was his first clue. Sorry BabyBoy2!!! <TRUMPETS> <Weeps a little>
And yes he’s still a baby, despite what everyone else says.
<Sticks fingers in ears> LALALALALA..
BabyBoy2 joined in the singing, he loves a Hap-Birth-Ay singalong.
Then we all bundled into Team Parents (yay!) bed, a rare treat, and watched BabyBoy2 open his presents. The TRACK-TOR was a hit from Boy8. And although BabyBoy2 loved everything afterwards nearly as much.
Nothing trumps TRACK-TOR.

BabyBoy2’s day was awesome.
I wasn’t at work. Because he was surrounded by everyone that loves him most in the world.
His mates came to his party. Every meal had cake at the end. Often with candles on it to blow out or cover in spit.
Each new guest brought a present. So by the end of the day BabyBoy2 had his own ankle grinder (??), sand pit, digger Duplo (a clear winner), some balloons (which Miss5 hid) and some lovely new books. Happy days.
And everyone, all day, was happy and excited to see him and gave him their full attention. Which, if you’re third child, is smegging rare.
Seriously second birthday's are the best.

Now as per tradition.
I’m not going to write a big vomit inducing list of why BabyBoy2 is the most magical child ever to grace the earth, about how flowers appear under his feet when he runs, or his poo smells of custard, and angels sing when he enters the room. As that would be dullo.
Instead, just know BabyBoy2 is hella awesome and a right little dude, and Daddy’s boy.
More interesting I feel is stuff that only the inner council family know.
The weird personal stuff...

1. BabyBoy2 still thinks hiding is covering your eyes
OH CRAP! Where he’s GONE! <Panics>
BabyBoy2 has just vanished!!!
Phone the police! Phone the army! Phone Sherlock!
GET ME Liam Neeson!!!
BabyBoy2: <Removes hands from eyes>
Oh! He's back! Oh right… that’s very clever… <Sits>

(Timmy mallet as a child...)

2. We have a song
I've sang BabyBoy2 the same goodnight song to him, almost every night, since he was born.
Yes, it’s ‘Killing In the Name. BabyBoy2 snuggles into my shoulder, and just listens as I sing.
Then he lays down calm and happy. He doesn’t always go to sleep after that. It’s not a magic song. But it’s our song.
And it’s a secret. I’m not telling you what it is.
<Sticks fingers up at you>

3. BabyBoy2 learnt to jump and I didn't notice
I know. I suck. <Hangs head> And he’s been working really hard on it too.
BabyBoy2 really wanted to join in with who-can-touch-the-ceiling-by-jumping competitions we have. And can I say, as eight-year-unbeaten-champion and tallest in the house, you are most welcome to the games.
It was a huge event when Boy8 mastered jumping. Miss5 we all watched as you leant to leap. BabyBoy2... er… sorry. It's the curse of being third (like me) you get a hairy chest have to work harder to get noticed.
Sorry dude.

(I believe you can fly just about take off from the ground, for a few milliseconds... )

[Boy8 is mid-loooong story]
Boy8: '... and then something that happened I can’t remember, oh wait… no.. yes...'
<Is struggling to to stay awake>
BabyBoy2: <Walks in with Cat balanced on head>
Miss5: '... but why do I have to go to get dressed?'
BabyBoy2: <Starts juggling with flaming Duplo whilst tap dancing>
Boy8: '... and then they all said taps, but I said no taps...'
<Is putting a brave face on it… twenty minutes and counting...>
BabyBoy2: <Builds for his big finale> <Juggles with Cat>
Miss5: '... but I'm scared of socks...'
BabyBoy2: <Trips and falls> <Accidentally knocks the remote on the floor>
[Bang]
<Gratefully tp escape the story black hole> BabyBoy2 what are you doing?
<Scoops him up and heads off to play>
Be more careful of that remote it's one of the family.
So... what have you been doing today?

4. BabyBoy2 cheers (woohoo, not clink) stuff I do
You are my little groupie. Here get yourself a beer cup of milk.
You cheers after every song I strangle play on the guitar.
You cheer when I get home from work.
You cheer when I wake you up in the morning.
You rock!

<Whispers to BabyBoy2> That why you're my favourite...
Boy8: 'What The Fish-Finger? WHO'S YOUR FAVOURITE? IT’S ME ISN'T!'
Boy8: 'YOUR MATE? BUDS FOREVER WE SWORE?' <Is outraged>
Boy8: <Storms off>
Miss5: 'It's me isn't it Daddy?' <Flicks hair innocently> 'Daddy?' <Flutters eyelids>
Mrs. Amazing: <Mouths 'It's really me isn't it?'> <Flicks hair not-innocently, pulls pie out of the oven, undresses a chocolate bar...>
Of course it’s you Mrs. Amazing! Obv.! <Takes pie>
<Burns hands>
BabyBoy2: <Is quietly hugging my leg and won't let go>
<Quietly high-fives BabyBoy2> Shhh...

5. Bye!
When BabyBoy2 is done with something. Or is going to get something. Or just needs a quick run about. He calls out 'BYE!' to signal he is done with that situation.
It's really handy. I don't know how many times I've waited like an idiot, under a chair, on the floor, inside a cupboard, in the pub, waiting for Boy8 or Miss5 to come back.
They never bloody do.
BabyBoy2 however is a gentleman and never wastes my time that way.

6. Octonauts.
Ah hell I love Octonauts. But to BabyBoy2 it’s something more. It’s become his cartoon.
He may still ask for Sarah and Duck (which he adopted from Miss5’s), but we all know, that really you want Octonauts. We know dude. We know.
You stare straight into our eyes, with your big blue eyes and ask, no plead, with a cute little head tilt…
BabyBoy2: ‘Noctnaughts? Noctnocts? NocNaughts?’
It never gets old. We could correct you. Anyone of us in the house could correct your pronounciation.
But… well... it’s funny.

7. You can hear chocolate
BabyBoy2 can hear chocolate being opened. He can hear it being eaten from a room away no matter how quiet I am. He manages to time it, everytime, to walk into a room when chocolate is being taken from the chocolate cupboard. Genius.
And how can I anyone resist when you ask so sweetly…

BabyBoy2: 'Choc-choc?' <Cute little head tilt>
Sigh. Fine... <Bites off a crumb>
BabyBoy2: ‘<Is very happy>’
BabyBoy2: 'Morrrrre?' <Head tilt>
Borry. Mall Mone... <Mouth is very full>

8. Boys in Cars
Letting BabyBoy2 into any part of the car, that isn't his seat, is always a huge mistake.
No matter whose car it is. BabyBoy2 scrabbles off like a rocket into any seat and refuses to leave. Try and pick him up, and he goes limp. Eventually, when you’ve finally got a grip on him he has to be ripped out of the car screaming and shouting.
I think it’s because he hates being in a baby chair. He wants to be like the rest of us. In a seat. Dream that dream boy. Dream it...

9. Certain textures give BabyBoy2 the heebie jeebies
Flour, sand, playdough, anything similar, give BabyBoy2 the heebie jeebies if it touches his hands.
He's improved a lot. Mrs. Amazing has worked hard on helping him adjust, as it were.
It used to be so bad it would make him retch a little. Luckily Team Parents (yay!) filmed it so you can see in the future. Good times.
For instance the sandpit we got you for your birthday. You love it. But after diving straight in, you then had to get straight back out again, have a heebie jeebies moment, then back in.
You beautiful little loon.

10. BabyBoy2 loves to dance
The dishwasher disco / dance-off is nothing until BabyBoy2 rocks into the middle of us all. Arm in the air, pumping it out to the beat.
Tiny feet moving faster than you cope. Heart and soul in the music and with us all.
It’s beautiful.

(... Not that surprised he’s knackered… We didn’t get back from the club until 5am…
Mrs. Amazing: ’WHAT?’
Er… I  mean he was still up when we got back at 5am…
Mrs. Amazing: ’WHO?’
Miss5 and Boy8.... <Gets sinking feeling> Boy8 wouldn't leave...)

11. All fruit is called bapple
Again, we could correct him. But do not.
It’s funny.

12. Bedtime is like the Waltons
Babyboy2 likes his goodnight routine,
There's leaving the downstairs area round of hugs and kisses.
Then there’s the we-all-meet-up-in-the-bathroom round of hugs and kisses.
Everyone gets a hug and a vague kiss, or a full on lip slobber.
It takes a while and not everyone (Miss5) is that keen on a second round each night.

Give your brother a kiss
Miss5: 'NO!'
Go on! He loves you
Miss5: <Holds out foot to be kissed>
<Foot gets hugged and then dragged in for a kiss>
Miss5: 'ARGHGHGGHGG' <Wipes off slobber>
BabyBoy2: <Totters off happy>

(Has just found the Sarah & Duck sticker at the back and was very happy about it.
The stickers hid the hand-me-down-ness…)

11. BabyBoy2 you are the happiest person I have ever met
Really. And I've met happy people. People that taste tea for a living, people that quality control chocolate, even people that own a Lego Death Star, the happiest people in the world.
BabyBoy2 tops them all.

Since he was born, and every day in between, and I bet for many years to come.
BabyBoy2 has faced the world and everything in it with a big smile on his face and a huge open heart.
Don’t get me wrong. Boy8 and Miss5 are happy children (when they are not whining or screaming) but BabyBoy2 is happier.
He's just delighted to be here.
I hope that never, ever, goes. Because people like that are truly magical in this world. People like that love life. Are just happy to be here. They enrich everyone around them and live their lives to the fullest. They are awesome. I think.

Anyhoo…

Bye bye BabyBoy1 <Weeps> <MAN HOWLS>
I can’t believe you’re two already, walking and talking, saying no to stuff, which we ignore, having opinions and nearly done with naps.
It has been an absolute pleasure, and honour, to be your Father so far. I've loved it. Thank you and I can’t wait for more. My baby boy. <Wipes away tear>
You are utterly scrummy.

You’re TWO!!!! TWO!!! <Both fist pump> OMFB!!!
BabyBoy2: 'Daddy!’ <Hugs my leg>
Ready for more?
BabyBoy2: <Nods> 'More Choc-choc?' <Tilts head>
Sure… Your Mum has some around here… <Searches> Oh yes here....
<Both eat illicit choc-choc>
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