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 music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

3 December 2017

When Ten Years Have Got Behind You...

I find myself making a herbal cup of tea.
Redbush. No really I was. Because I know caffeine this late will keep me up.
I've picked my favourite mug from cupboard. My Pink Floyd - Dark side of the Moon - mug.
And as I get the tea bag out of the cupboard.
I sort of notice myself and stop.
What the hell has happened to me?

(Warning: May cause serious self reflection…
and evaluation of life choices, whilst drunk)

Firstly.
I am quite drunk. Not now as I type. But then.  
I had organised a night out with a Dad from Miss6's school.
And without anything else really to do whilst we got to know each other.
The pub was chosen...

Library?
OtherDad: <Shakes head>
Salad bar?
OtherDad: 'Yeah... but no...'
Good shout... The steak house?
OtherDad: 'They shut at nine. We'd have to go home. It's eight now...'
Hmmm... How about... ? Well...
OtherDad: 'What?'
Well I know it seems a bit strange, and maybe even unusual... But we could go to a pub!
OtherDad: 'Oooooo interesting...'
I seem to recall I used to frequent pubs when I was younger...
Before we had children...
OtherDad: 'You know what... I think I used to too!'
to too?
No way!!!
OtherDad: 'Yeah!'
Let's go! Have a sensible and grown up evening, discussing high brow thingys and culture and stuff!
OtherDad: 'So no football then?
OtherDad: 'Let's make it a one pint limit!'
Good idea!!!
[Four pints later]
[Last orders bell rings]
OtherDad: 'Going home shot?'
YES! <Stands with huge arm gestures>

We had a fun night.
And that's all you get to hear about that.
<Hic>

I manage to stagger home.
Finally get my keys in the lock and stumble in the door. Into complete darkness. Which does in some way explain why I had so much trouble lining up my tiny key to the tiny keyhole.
But why are all the lights off? It's late (post chucking-out time) so everyone else is asleep in bed. But normally Mrs. Amazing leaves a light on for me. (I do the same back).
And failing that we have a perpetual glow from nightlights scattered through the house.
They aren't glowing either.

The power is off.
Which could mean a power cut. But it’s a lot more likely to be the swine of a dish washer machine. Which has suddenly decided that it doesn't want to clean dishes and cutlery. And so instead is tripping the trip-switch five minutes into a wash.
I actually don't mind washing up. Years of K.P.ing (Kickarse Person Kitchen Porter) as a young man (I am, and was) mean I do not fear the sink.
But I hella hate having to empty dirty stuff from the dishwasher. That I had only just filled with. And then wash everything up by hand.
Why have the smegging machine?

I balance on a stool.
And by balance I mean wobble around really dangerously in the dark, on my own. Drunk. Reaching up for the main trip switch.
POoooW! Beep! Beep! [CD player starts up somewhere]

Lights back on.
And I'm glad I'm in the right house this time.
I go let Mrs. Amazing know I am home. And I am not a burglar.
Years back that would have meant finding Mrs. Amazing on the sofa watching a film. Maybe asleep.
Now a days I KNOW Mrs. Amazing will be in bed and asleep. It's past 101pm.
Unless of course one of the troubles is up and Mrs. Amazing is looking after them.
Then it all gets a bit awkward.
As turning up drunk to a calpol party is never good.

I let Mrs. Amazing know a good night was had by all.
Through operatic puppets. She is thrilled to be woken by this news.
In my spot in bed I find Miss6 totally zonked out. Making my side all Miss6 smelly. ew.
I go to pick her up. But at some point over the last few months. Miss6 has been stretched,  and now picking her up is difficult. As there's arms and legs all over the place.
Hitting doors, getting whacked on cupboards...

Shh shhh... no need to wake up... Daddy's got you...
[BANG]
Sorry...
[BANG]
Sorry same leg again
[BANG][BANG][BANG]
Miss6: 'Ow.'
Sorry... I'll be more careful...
[BANG]
... from ...
[BANG]
... now...
[BANG][BANG][BANG]
...on…
[BANG]
Miss6: ‘I’ll walk…’
[BANG]

(Like she’s been stretched? Like elastic? Hmmm…
<Crosses fingers really tightly for at least
one of them to have super powers>)

Next I check on BabyBoy3.
Last I saw of him. He had thrown all his bed sheets onto the floor. And decided to sleep on the floor. Where he will get cold and then wake up during the night.
Best move him off the floor now. Except he's not there. He's in his bed.
Mrs. Amazing must have moved him. Which is good news as I am not feeling uber stable at the moment and moving BabyBoy3 always seems to wake him.
BabyBoy3 snores away. In Buzz lightyear jammies. So hella cute.
Oh bacon I hope he sleeps in tomorrow.
So I can.

Poor Boy10 has a nasty cough.
And I hear him coughing away in her sleep. But he doesn't wake.
And I don't check on him either. As the cough has told me all I need to know.
He lives!

Then I've a choice.
I can either go straight to bed. As quickly as possible. And hope not to yip from the darkness and lying down. Which if I manage I've got a fair chance of being alert and awake tomorrow morning, ready for taking BabyBoy3 and Miss6 to school and nursery.
I just need to sleep immediately.

The other option is a bit more self indulgent.
I could put on the latest Red Dwarf (which I love) episode. Make some snacks. Drink lots of water. And then although I'd defo be knackered tomorrow.
I may not be hung over!

I flip a coin.
Drop it, lose it totally and whilst searching realise I’ve started making a sandwich and am missing the start of Red Dwarf. Which I must have just put on.
Decision made.

It's then.
I have my moment of ‘seeing’ myself. It's as I am making my herbal tea to go with my sandwich. That I somehow manage to look at myself.
But from the outside (yes quite drunk) like a out of body experience.
And no I didn’t die.

It’s hard to explain.
But I saw me. Doing what I was doing. And who I was.
Some part of me, probably a memory from a long time ago, didn’t like what it saw. It was pretty disgusted to be honest. It saw this old, safe, urghhhh, tired man, an adult, making his herbal tea. In his stupid Pink Floyd mug.
And that young memory really hated him.

Yeah. Weird I know.
I probably went for a wee next. As the next thing I remember was looking at myself in the mirror. It was pretty ghastly. I really looked.
I’ve learnt that my self image. The image I think I have, that everyone else sees. I think that me still looks about twenty five. And gets regular sleep.
The old bastard in the mirror, with huge panda eyes, frowning and glaring at me begs to differ.
<Swears at mirror>
<Is offended>

Sigh.

And yeah.
Right then I could of happily wandered off down the drunken blues path that night.
I’ve been there many times before. It’s not great to be honest. Kinda wrecks any sleep. It’s less fun. So instead I kept on staring at the mirror.
Start a staring competition.

Ironically.
Or ceramically if you prefer. As I am struggling to match my staring competitor, I’ve some Pink Floyd lyrics rattling round my head.
The song is about getting older, and madness. It’s called Time. I love it.
I suppose the lyrics are rattling about because of their aptness...

“And then one day you find ten years have got behind you,
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun,
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking,
Racing around to come up behind you again,
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death”



Bugger!
That’s what’s bugging me. Ten years! I’ve a Boy10! And I’ve been Dadding for ten years!
I am sure that isn’t just a coincidence. I reckon those two things are connected.
<Gives self a golf clap>

I know for me It’s a mixture of things that bug me.
There’s the dreams that I didn’t make time for. I’m not quite where I wanted to be.
<Moves slightly to the right, is a lot happier>
I’m not quite who I wanted to be. Future me always had hair. Long glorious hair. And future me’s belly was considerably less jelly like?
<Considers belly issue whilst eating pie>

Right then those lyrics feels true.
Ten years have got behind me. They’ve pretty much flown by. And that sucks.
A life eighth gone. Super quick.
There’s not much I can do about it either. I’m ten years older. Suck it up.
My self image is now WAYYYYYY out from reality.
And I’ll deal with that. Denial.

It’s one of the funny things about kids.
For me anyway. I find I am so busy and tired. That it’s easy to forgot all the good things. The brilliant bits. The daily grind and rush just seem to help push them out of my head.
And in my moment of self reflection, alone and drunk. I know I need something to help out of the nose dive I seem to be running face first into.

But I have a plan.
To combat this situation I take a lot of pictures of my monkeys children. Just whenever I see something I like. Click click. And then I’m back in the room, engaged. Nothing fancy. Rarely poses. It’s a quick thing. And a bit of me knows that probably I will never come back to those photos ever again. As they are a bit crap.
But I’m really glad I don’t listen to myself. What?

As those photos can be very powerful.
Whenever I feel like ten years have got behind me. Scrolling through those photos reminds me of what I have actually been doing for the past ten years. Playing in the park, cooking cakes, LEGO, hide and seek with the worst hiders in the world, building train tracks, hospital visits, cakes, parties, Christmas, racing cars, bath times, tiny people falling asleep on me… etc… on and on!!! So much LIFE!!!
No wonder I look so… er… middle aged parental now a days.

(BabyBoy3 ran at me for a hug whilst I was trying to take his picture...)
(SEE!)

Every single out of focus picture.
Every eye right up to the lens shot. Every picture where they ran out of the frame before the camera clicked. They may look crappo. May be useless to everyone else. But for me they can really spark the memory of what we were doing. And what I’ve been over the last ten years.
And that’s hella important.

Because I need that.
When I feel I haven’t done anything ‘worthwhile’ for the last ten years. I’ve no best seller book. My album isn’t being pirated world wide. Where I live isn’t named after me. #TheDreams!
When all that sneaks up on me and attacks. I’ve got something to fight back.
Even if I can’t remember, my pictures show me I’ve been really busy doing brilliant stuff for the past ten years. That no one else could have possibly done...
<Points at Boy10>
<Points at Miss6>
<Points at BabyBoy3>
And luckily I got to do it all with her… <Points at Mrs. Amazing>
Mrs. Amazing: <Blows me a kiss> <Also has my wallet>
[Cat walks by, feeling left out]

X



23 November 2017

A Tale of Two... er… Events (I Feel Amazing)...

It's amazing how the world works sometimes.
How two seemingly unconnected events can come together and help each other.
Magic really.
<Does mystical hands>

Seemingly Unconnected Event #1

A week ago.
I was at a party. A late night for a bestie. He was DJing.
So I went. It started at 11pm. Which is not a time I have been out partying at for a couple of decades. As I am thirty-ARHGGHGHHNO!NO!NO!!!WHY!WHY!
Something in me decided I had to go. Stuff the consequences. So as I left that night, just as Mrs. Amazing was heading to bed, she made clear her feelings on me heading out quite so late...

Mrs. Amazing: 'You're crazy'
Crazy cool?
Mrs. Amazing: 'Hmmm...'
Crazy rock?
Mrs. Amazing: 'Err...'
Crazy like a middle aged man trying to regain his lost youth, which will probably end badly, and I'll be knackered forever from this?
Mrs. Amazing: 'Yeah more that. Crazy!'

After the DJing.
There was a band. Then another DJ. And another. 3am it finished. <Gives you a look>
And all the babyshams I had drunk were really starting to take a toll on me especially as I had been chasing them with double Jack Daniels and coke.
There was an after party. Which I attended as it was so late I had no way of getting home. And my, poorly planned, place to kip was at the party.
5am. The party was still in full swing and I'd love to say I was still rocking away. But I wasn't.
It was hella tired and wanting to sleep. But couldn't.
You see 5:30am is often when BabyBoy3 comes in for a cuddle at home. My body clock is timed for waking up at that time. And then rolling over and pretending to be dead so I can sleep for a bit more.
My body clock was not ready to be up and partying at 5am.

(Double JD please!
Barsteward: ‘Here ya go!’
No-no! I meant bottles… <Gives look>)

Plenty of cups of tea kept me going.
Blessed be the tea givers. Even if I was becoming more horizontal with every passing minute. Music was playing. And whilst it was nice and fun music. It wasn't my normal type, and most of it washed past. However one song came on that reached out and grabbed my attention from my 95% sleeping state.

Actually.
I imagine the song would have just passed me by. Except for one thing. The guy that had put the track on. Loved the track. And knew every word. And he's hilarious. His brilliant mime and actions to it were so good that it had us all in stitches. So much so, we rewound (skipped back) and he did it again.
Brilliant.

I finally gave into sleep.
Tea finished. But not before I managed to Google a lyric from the song. So I could find the song the next day.
Zzz...

I woke three hours later.
The party was still going on. But I needed to get home. Somehow I managed to get myself home by 11am. And then slotted seamlessly back into family life. OK it wasn't the day to ask me to rewire the oven or help anyone with homework. But I was cooking. Cleaning. Laundering (real word). Playing with the kids. Upright. A valuable member of Team Parent (yay!). Not a lazy git stretched out on the sofa moaning about a hangover. No.
So much back into the swing of it I was, that I took Boy10 and Miss6 out roller skating that evening. With me skating too. I wobbled a bit more than normal.
Bedtime was done. Mrs. Amazing headed out into the cosmos to battle intergalactic demons. I bathed. And at 9pm I collapsed into bed.
And slept for 12 hours straight.

Seemingly Unconnected Event #2

It was my turn for Boy10's bedtime.
It did not go well. I had had had a long day and was feeling pretty closed off. Low on empathy. So I laid out the law to Boy10.
- You are going to read for 15mins. Outloud.
- Before we play any cards.
- And you need to do your teeth again, as I took longer to wee, then you did to brush.

I did manage.
To get Boy10 to re-do his teeth. Although I did have to stand with him timing the fun. But it was done. But once we got to reading outloud. It all broke down.
And I became the enemy.

Which suuuuuucks!
Boy10 ran away from me and went to find Mrs. Amazing. Who was busy catching up on some work. Boy10 begged Mrs. Amazing to come do his story as he didn't like me.
Looking back I can see what was going on now. But at the time I was hurt and just switched to fine! Whatever! I'm tired! You don't want me to read, then fine! mode.
Mrs. Amazing said no. As she had a) work to do and b) she supported me. Which she did by telling Boy10 that I was doing his bedtime etc. I didn't go down well. He was very distressed about it all.
Poor lad.

(That better be ‘V’ for victory my lad… Else you’ll be in serious trouble!
<Knocks debris off shoulder>)

At the time.
I kept thinking what the smeg! Why is he doing this to me? It's totes unfair. I've done nothing wrong! And I hadn't. But my thinking was just about me thinking. Not thinking for others.
The crap awesome kind of thinking.

Mrs. Amazing worked it out next morning.
Simply by asking. And then re-asking. And asking some more. Which is not something I ever do. I ask. Get answer. We're done.
But Mrs. Amazing kept asking until Boy10 explained why he didn't want to go to school this morning. He really, REALLY, didn't want to go.
Once Mrs. Amazing got the truth out of Boy10. Everything clicked into place. The awful bedtime last night. His turning on me. Yep.
We now had an answer and reason.

Team Parent (yay!).
Amid the chaos of a school morning. Had a quick meeting about Boy10.
The result was to keep Boy10 at home for a day. Yep. Parental approved missing school.
OOOOOooooooOOOOO!

Mrs. Amazing was conflicted about this.
As essentially she is a good girl <Blushes>. Except with regard to Wine, Shoes, waiting to open Presents.
I, on the other hand, not so much. I tend to follow and agree to the rules, as long as they tend and agree with me. <Grins>
So for me the choice was easy. Boy10 is not well enough for school. He doesn't go.
Stress is probably the best and safest description of what was wrong. And I've had days off for stress. Children can get stress. I was very happy with that as a reason.
Mrs. Amazing hadn't thought of it that way. And was a lot happier after I mentioned it.
YES. I was the sensible, thoughtful, bigger picture, one...

Boy10: 'Quick! EVERYONE! Come out side!!! The planets and all the stars are aligning!!!'
Mrs. Amazing: 'Wow! This is clearly a once in a lifetime event'
Yeah... <Is a little hurt>

Anyway.
We took Boy10 out of school for the day. Mrs. Amazing went to see the Head teacher (I was required at work). The head of year was there too. They did their jobs well. Team Parent (yay!) were happy with the conclusion. Reassured. And at no point did they tell us off for taking Boy10 out of school. Which was hella important.
And Team Parent (yay!) were happy as we were supporting Boy10 in the best way we know how.

The Bit Where the Two Events Mix Together (and this, hopefully, finally, makes sense)

Next day.
Boy10 had to go back to school. Both of Team Parent (yay!) had words with him. Nice ones. Encouraging ones.
My little speech was pretty good. Not great. Mrs. Amazing nailed hers.
Boy10 was ready.

It was my turn to drop Boy10 at school.
He played up a bit getting into the car. Fights over wearing a coat. In the UK. In November. Put it on!!!
But I didn't fight at all knowing he was on edge. Just gave calm reminders of expected behaviour and lots and lots of patience.
Eventually. Late. Me and Boy10 drove off.

And I didn't know what to say.
Which doesn't often happen. And because it doesn't often happen with me. It makes it worse. The silence in the car (there was music playing Obvs.) building and growing like a black hole that was sucking the joy and happiness of the world.
I felt this incredible need to reach out to Boy10 and tell it was going to be OK. That everything was fine. That we love him. That we are here for him and will always be. To connect in some way.
I can sense Boy10 wants that too. He even looks like he is dreading school today.
I panic. And playfully punch his arm. Wrong choice.
CrapBadgers.

I get a look.
Damn it my words have utterly left me. We've ten minutes of this hell to endure unless I can think of something. I try and think of some good music to put on. Then I can sing something to him. But every song I want to put on, isn't right. The lyrics aren't right. Radiohead is right out. Floyd's ‘Another Brick in the wall’ is a no. Bob Marley's ‘Three Little Birds' is close. But not quite right...
Think man! THINK!!!

(OK… But I’m not really sure how that’s going to help…
<Starts playing saxophone>)

<Is busy thinking>
<Drives through park, over ponds, up a tree, over the Cricket square, mounts curb, sends pedestrians flying> I GOT IT! <Car hops back onto road>
<Passes Boy10 his phone>
Put a song called 'I Feel Amazing' on...
<Waits while Boy10 signs the hand over forms>

Yes!
The two seemingly unconnected events smash together and the music I was watching someone else mime, brilliantly, at 5am, at a party. Splats into my head. Ew.

Here's the chorus:

I feel amazing,
Smile on me face from me wake up in the morning,
No time fi badmind no time fi problem,
Somebody tell babylon better unoo warn dem


It’s by Richie Campbell and it’s called ‘I Feel Amazing’.
I had already read and learnt the lyrics (it's what I do). I’m well aware the lyrics are safe for Boy10. I also know the chorus is catchy as hell. And I know it will stick in Boy10's head if I play it to him enough as we drive!
And what lyrics they are! Like a mantra. An uplifting, feel happy about the universe, set of words.
Brilliant!

The cherries all over the top of the cake. The best bit. Is that I don't just have to put music on and sit there waiting for him to listen.
I can copy the mime I had seen as well!

Boy10 reacts first with a 'You are so embarrassing' look.
Which was expected. I expected that. However the joy of the mime I had seen had not been the actions themselves. But the utter joy and happiness that had been put into the actions. And that kind of projection of joy can take a while to infect.
So I mime on, joyousness increased (whilst driving sensibly and carefully).
Both arms up dancing away.

Eventually it gets to Boy10.
Me dancing, huge coat on, miming away, in the confined space of the car. Whilst driving. Trying my best to match Richie Campbell's accent. I iz so damn white.
A beautiful smile breaks across Boy10's face. Thank bacon. I haven't failed him.
I manage to connect. I'm a goodish Dad. Thank bacon. <Wipes tear away>
I did it!

Boy10 leaves the car singing the lyrics.
I may not have managed a great speech that would lift him. My words may have utterly failed me. But I've given Boy10 some words to run around his head today. Some good words. And hell, that's enough. I'm quite proud of myself for that.
Thank you Richie Campbell for the awesome song.

And thank you hilarious mate from the party for that.
There's not much I value above my children's happiness. Cake. Star Wars toys. ChocChoc. Bacon flavoured Star Wars cake toys. I don't think you will ever know how important those hilarious moments turned out to be to me.
And Boy10.

Unless you read this... which you might... I may even show you... so then you'll know... er... thanks… Which I’ve already said....
<Just leaves quietly>
X

(Over to Richie... (ignore the 20 sec intro)...
... (and the vid, not really sure what that's about really...)
... (I would have just had a lot of people jumping about looking happy)...
...(but each to their own)...
... (great song anyways)...)