Suddenly He's BabyBoy4...

I say suddenly, but it's taken me ages to write this tale.

(So Grandparents, you have not missed a birthday, panic not).

However BabyBoy3 turning four came as a bit of a shock.

Not so much that he was four. I can read a calendar. I was there at the birth (eating biscuits with the midwives and guzzling tea WHILST Mrs. Amazing was being amazing and an absolute legend, and actually doing real magic of creating a person from her body, for the third time, the hat trick!).

I knew BabyBoy3 was soon to be plus one, i.e. BabyBoy4.

(Despite being told not to jump on the bed...

The birthday excitement was too much for BabyBoy3/4

Ow.)

Still SHEESH!

It was quite a shock when it finally hit home that he was four.

To think that all my babies had grown up and the toddler years, the nappy years, all those joyous and weird and pooey wonderful days were done. It was quite a jolt to the noggin.

The tipping point in my wibbly wobbly mind was his birthday party.

We had been brave and done the party at home again...

Right, that's all the knives, guns, shotguns, nukes, missiles, swords, daggers, breakables, fragiles, hot things, cold things, poisonous things, toxic things, stuff that gets stuck to your clothes and is a right pain to wash off, secret things and tiny things that are really collectable so that they don't go '''missing'''

Mrs. Amazing: 'So you started with Boy11's room then?'

Uh huh <Takes off full nuclear suit>

Miss7's room next...

<Opens Miss7's door>

<Sparkles and glitter waft out>

<Enters cautiously, but is quickly hog-tied in devious trap>

We did think about hiring someone for the party.

Or booking a room and then hiring someone. But then I remembered that all costs crap loads of money. And actually a small gang of four old's, surrounded by their parents, probably weren't going to cause Team Parent (yay!) to much trouble.

We've done it twice before. We have two elder children. We've earned our stripes.

We can do this.

[Both lying broken and battered two hours later]

Mrs. Amazing: 'Urhghhh... Soooo tired...pass the wine...'

<Is slugging wine from bottle>

<Empties bottle, gets another>

Mrs. Amazing: 'When you're done... any chocolate?'

<Points as is slugging>

Mrs. Amazing: 'You've eaten five bars already???'

<Is slugging but manages to nod>

And we did.

We did it. The party was awesome fun! BabyBoy4 had a really good time, and it was lovely to watch him play with his friends. Who are all quite, quite, mad, but lovely and fun and happy. They were all so sweet.

BabyBoy4 loved every moment of it and we got to be involved with it all. Brilliant.

Boy10 helped out. Miss7 helped too. BabyBoy4 could not have felt more loved.

Good.

There was an issue.

A confusion over the theme of the party. Which was a bit of a problem.

When I spoke to BabyBoy3 he clearly wanted a pirate themed party. But when Team Parent (yay!) met to discuss the party, Mrs. Amazing revealed BabyBoy3 had requested a Frog themed party. Obvs. We arm wrestled for it.

Frog party it was.

And the Cake as by Mrs. Amazing was awesome.

(When we were out and Grandma was over babysitting…

She gave BabyBoy4 a whole frog to eat…

They are solid icing…

<Gives you a look>)

BabyBoy3's 4th birthday.

Was the most eagerly awaited birthday I have ever know (except the Queens as we all got a day off). BabyBoy3 asked for ages about when his birthday was. Months and months we were asked about his birthday and when it was...

BabyBoy3: 'Is it tomorrow?'

No mate, months away...

BabyBoy3: 'Is it tomorrow tomorrow?'

No. Mooooooonths away...

BabyBoy3: 'No, no. Is it lots of tomorrow tomorrows?'

Kind of... Look you see how it's cold and dark out?

BabyBoy3: <Smiles as very lost>

Well when the sun comes out, it's close to your birthday

[Next day sun denying all seasonal expectations, comes out]

BabyBoy3: 'YAY! It's my birthday!!!' <Does in your face dance, which he learnt from me Boy11>

Right... No... When I said it was when the sun comes out...

[There are tears]

The other two.

Looked forward to their birthdays, sure. Every year, as is the tradition.

But BabyBoy3 was really excited about it. Months and months before it was going happen.

I blame Miss7 for constantly reminding him his birthday was soon, but not too soon.

But hey that's the fun of having siblings in your life.

<Coughs> fun.

Anyhoo...

Here's my amusing list of things about BabyBoy3 that in future I'll look back on and blackmail him about with a smile and a tear in my heart as my little dude has grown into a big boy.

<Vomits>

As normal I shall avoiding all the obvious stuff, like he's awesome, he's nice and just give you juicy Matt and Luke goss...

1. BabyBoy3 blocks the toilet up the most.

No he isn't a bear. He doesn't block it like that.

Instead BabyBoy3 is extremely generous with the toilet paper he uses. Every time.

We no longer watch him as he does it on his own. And as this is the third child Team Parent (yay!) have taught to wipe.

Just the fact he does it fills up with happiness and joy. So nice NOT to be involved in all the business anymore.

Yet the mornings I've dragged myself out of bed, stomped to my throne, only to find a basin full of water.

Well there's been a lot.

Twice I have found a whole roll wedge down there.

Brilliant.

2. BabyBoy3 is the master of apologies

Or I am the biggest sucker to that little boy...

BabyBoy3: 'Sorwe Daddy. Sorwe Daddy' <Saddest little cute 'I've learnt my lesson totes' face>

That's OK dude... Just try to avoid it next time...

BabyBoy3: <Biggest eyes you ever seen>

Have a cuddle

BabyBoy3: <Cuddles me>

You want a present?

BabyBoy3: <Nods>

3. BabyBoy3 can't play Mario Kart

Oh sure this isn't a world breaker. It's not the end of the world.

Really it's not going to stop him in life in anyway.

And yet... As I watch him play. He really can't do it. The brain connections that say wall-avoid just are not there. Bash bash bash into the wall he goes. I'd like him to be better. Ah well, give him time.

Still it doesn't stop him demanding to play every now and then...

So dude what ya wanna do?

BabyBoy3: 'Car racing game!!!' <Bounces about>

But you suck? You sure? It always makes you cross and bored?

BabyBoy3: 'BRRRRRMMMMM' <Gets gaming cushions>

Fine...

4. Our song has changed.

If you read this blog enough you may well have noticed that me and BabyBoy3, have a song.

(Which I still ain't telling you what it is). That I sing to him as I put him to bed every night.

Recently he declared that our song is no longer wanted. -I wept for hours.-

Not wanting to let go of this special bond I had very carefully set up. I changed tack and asked him what song he would like to sing instead.

And then I had the genius idea that I could teach him the words of a song, and how to sing it at the same. A three year old that could sing in tune, what a blessing that would be!

A Disney favourite was chosen (I still ain't saying) and that's what we sing together, slowly so he can learn it, every night.

He loves it almost as much as I do.

5. You can call him Spider-Boy now.

And Buzz Lightyear. And BatBoy. And Robin. And <Giggles> Woody. Basically whatever he is wearing you can now call him.

Which may not sound like much. But for the past three and a lot years you would be told off by BabyBoy3 for that kind of outrageous comment...

<Is looking at BabyBoy3 dressed as Batman> Hey Batman!

BabyBoy3: 'THAT'S NOT MY NAME. I'M BABYBOY3!'

OK mate... <Runs>

My fierce, bonkers, little spider-boy.

A post shared by Tales from the... Dad Side! (@talesfromthedadside3) on Aug 6, 2018 at 9:40am PDT

6. It's Daddy! YAY!

No one is happier to see me arrive home than BabyBoy3. No one.

If I could bottle this bit of BabyBoy3 I would, and keep it forever. He actually says yay too.

Outloud. Yay.

When BabyBoy3 hears me come home, he leaps up from whatever he is doing, and runs to the door to see me. Even if it's just to shout 'Come see Daddy' and then he legs it off again.

It's possibly the best feeling to have someone so excited you're home. And I shall revel in it whilst it lasts. As the others? … Not so much anymore...

I'm home!

Boy11: <Eyelids flicker in recognition, barely>

Miss7: 'Hey Daddy' <Doesn't move>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Hi. Bye. They're all yours' <Runs out of the house>

BabyBoy3: 'DADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDY!' <Runs at me and hugs me>

<Has high voice> Dude! A bit more carefully next time. Lovely to see you!

<Walks off John Wayne style, eyes watering>

Wouldn't trade it.

7. BabyBoy3 is our most hitty child.

It's fine as he's got tiny little hands and no damage can be done. Still.

His kicks can pack a wallop though. Wincey wallop if you're not careful.

It's a mixture of him being very excited about everything in life, and him having very little spacial awareness.

It's also totally my fault.

As the Ninja training I do comes up a fair bit at home. I go once a week.

Sometimes I show him. We all watch Dragon Ball Z (which I am sure doesn't help). And although I did the exact same with Boy11 and showed him everything Ninja-ey I did.

I also had a lot more time back then. And I've kind of skipped over the part where I said to Boy11 a lot: you don't do any of this to your friends and family.

My bad! (I think BabyBoy4 rocks).

8. BabyBoy3 moves furniture.

The other two didn't do this.

Some mornings we try and go into BabyBoy3's room and well you can't.

As he's moved the bed in front of the door. Or the bed is sideways. His lamp is knocked on the floor. There's normally toys strewn everywhere and walking anywhere in the room is totes unsafe for any of Team Parent (yay!).

It's normally a morning thing he does whilst he waits for us to all wake up, and then wakes us all up at 6am anyway.

As for what time he gets up to do his furniture rearranging...

I shudder to think.

<Shudders>
See.

9. BabyBoy3 disagrees with Team Parents (yay!) bedtimes for him.

He doesn't wail. He shout. He doesn't cry.

Sometimes he lays there singing to himself, or playing with toys in his bed.

Other times runs about and steals stuff from Boy11's room. Or Miss7's. Or our room.

It's like living with a magpie.

And it's not as though he’s quiet about it, THUD THUD go his little feet across the ceiling as Team Parent (yay!) turn the tele up and pretend he's fast asleep....

You go

Mrs. Amazing: 'I don't want to'

He just hides under his covers when I go up, and giggles

Mrs. Amazing: 'He just hugs and kisses me and tells me lots of things'

Arm wrestle? Oh no... wait... Mario Kart contest instead!

[After]

Damn it! <Trudges upstairs to find BabyBoy3 moving all my clothes into his room>

10. BabyBoy3 is still the happiest little fella ever.

OK probably not ever. But compared to the other two. He's well ahead.

I am really, really, really, glad that BabyBoy3 still has this about him. I wrote about it on his third birthday. At the time wondering if it was just because he was young and little and hella cute. A bit of me worried that as he grew up his wonderful attitude to life would slowly be stripped away. BUT IT HASN'T!

He's still the happy go-lucky dude he's always been. He just seems to be happy to be here, existing. Which is something I shall always aspire to.

BabyBoy3 you were utterly brilliant. Thank you.

I can’t wait for more matey.

X

(BabyBoy3: ‘Can I eat my lunch in my den?’

… Hmmm… Yeah!

I see no problem with that!

[Later, whilst cleaning sofa]

... I see problems with that...

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!

And the coup de grâce.

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)...)