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 rage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rage. Show all posts

16 November 2017

Rage Against the Dad (Machine)...

Boy10 had slept over at a mates house the night before.
Which probably means he had no sleep.
Me and Mrs. Amazing we're busy getting ready for a party at our place.
Miss6 and BabyBoy3 were happy enough playing together.
In their mad little way...

What is this?
Miss6: 'Our babies house'
But that's right where I am sweeping! Tidying for the party!!!
<BabyBoy3 stomps about in sweepings>
Right! No new toys out! We've getting ready for a party!!!
BabyBoy3: 'Awwwwwww'
Miss6: <Sticks out tongue>
Put everything away... No toys out...
<Both head off and make mess around the corner>

(Seemed rather apt for them both... (source))

Team Parent (yay!) spend the morning cleaning.
And getting things ready for party. Boy10 was asked to tidy his room.
As it looked like an actual Nerf war and explosion had taken place. Bullets everywhere. And to de-hide all the hidden clothes.
Miss6 and BabyBoy3 were left to play and chill out.

By lunch time.
Team Parent (yay!)'s patience with Boy10 was wafer thin.
There had been rudeness. Strops. And meanness to Miss6 and BabyBoy3. Which isn't acceptable. Big brothers should be kind.
I'm a third child. I can still feel the injustices elder siblings can dish out.
<Weeps and dramatically sweeps away>

Towards the end of lunch.
Of a not very fun. Will you please eat up the party starts soon lunch. That had taken nearly an hour.
As they were all being utter fussy pains. Mrs. Amazing excused herself from the table and went to have a little moment away from the kids. For everyone's safety.
It was combination of Boy10 being rude and obnoxious to us all. And Miss6 being the world's slowest and most annoying eater. And BabyBoy3 had joined in, as little children do, when the big ones are doing stuff.
Team Parent (yay!) still had lots to do before the party and 'The Annoying Three' were refusing to eat a plain jacket potato.
With utter class and control Mrs. Amazing excused herself to me, and headed upstairs for fifteen minutes chill out.
Leaving me to fight the demons.

Back! BACK! You hellcats!
BabyBoy3: 'Meow!'
... er... kind of… er… not really...

I told them all off.
A ‘look what you have done to your poor Mother’ speech. For shame and all that. Boy10 was unrepentant however. <Eye twitches>
Boy10 lasted another five minutes at the table. Honestly I did my best. But I was up against someone really keen to be told off. I took the answering back. The rudeness. The obnoxiousness. Actual obnoxiousness. For what felt like hours. But was five minutes.
Then I snapped.

(Show of hands… Who wants what from me today?
There’s no point putting up both hands Mrs. Amazing…
It still only counts as one…)

Up I reared from my seat like a stallion.
Snatched the the knife and fork from his hands that he was STILL drumming on the table. Despite being told not to. A billion times. And send him to his room.
Off he stropped. Me helping him go. Him sending a few rude words my way. An insult or two.
Nice.

I walk back into the kitchen fuming.
The other two ate like the wind after that. BabyBoy3 ate the last of his food very quickly and looks very sorry. Then very sweetly did his best request to get down ever.
Miss6 whined once more. Until she realised how close I was to losing it with her.
Then she shushed and ate her jacket potato. Slowly.
But she ate it.

With lunch done.
I go and find Mrs. Amazing and explain that Boy10 just got worse. She is not surprised and absolves me from any blame. Which I needed. Thanks.
I offer a cuppa and she says she will down in a moment. Refreshed and ready to rejoin the battle. Which Mrs. Amazing was.
Which was lucky. As ten minutes later it's my turn. As I am about throw Boy10 throw several windows, my chank totally offed. When Mrs. Amazing suggests I take a break and she take over. Which I did. And she did. Dids allround.
A quick break had clearly made a huge difference for Mrs. Amazing. Maybe it would for me.
I use my time wisely and play stupid games on my phone meditate.

Then we had the party.
More rudeness from Boy10 during it. Boy10 called me a 'Grumpy Old Man' in front of his mates. Which is very rude and hurtful, who’s scruffy looking?. Mrs. Amazing made him retract his comment and apologise. I was holding a can of spray squirty cream at the time (don’t ask) and Boy10 was very lucky to walk away with nostrils empty.
However. All in all. It was a fun and lovely, but hard, and exhausting, party.
Team Parent (yay!) were knackered.

Then there was the rage.
And it wasn't anyone's fault. It was just bad luck. <Sighs> <Shakes fist at universe>
Guests gone. A good dent in the clear-up operation had been made. But it was 6pm and bed time. And everyone was going to bed early.
Especially Boy10.

Considering your behaviour...
... and how tired you are...
... I calculate that you need to go to bed... three days ago...
Mrs. Amazing: 'DEAL!' <Runs to bed>
No! Not you... <Trails off>
<Coughs on the dust Mrs. Amazing kicked up in her haste>

Miss6 and BabyBoy3 were sat.
In jammies waiting for a cartoon before bed. But Boy10 was still watching a movie. Which Miss6 and BabyBoy3 had no interest in. However there was only five minutes left. So considering the mood Boy10 was in. He was allowed to watch the end. Whilst the other two waited.
I get milk for BabyBoy3 and do some more eating clearing up .

When the normally amazing magic box.
The magic one that sucks the tele programs from the aerial and shows us their wonder and flickering images of joy. Records them and stuff. That fella.
Well that lovely magic box started the rage rolling.

At 6pm exactly.
A cartoon for Miss6 and BabyBoy3 started recording. The one they wanted to watch ironically. The magic box was already recording the film Boy10 was watching. But on a +1 hour channel. As we had missed the start of it. Thought he'ld like that.
The magic box did what it was told. However it can only record two things if you are actually watching one of them. The magic box automatically changed channel to Miss6 and BabyBoy3's cartoon. Stopping Boy10 from watching the final minutes of his film.
I ran in as I heard him getting very cross about it mouth full of cake.

Boy10: 'Who did that? WHO DID THAT?'

It takes me a few moments to realise what happened.
It takes a while as Boy10 is in my face sure that I have stopped him watching his film.
Miss6 and BabyBoy3 are ignoring Boy10 as their cartoon is on. They're happy.
Luckily there is a message on screen that explains what the magic box has done. So I can at least explain and point to Boy10 why he cannot change channel.
He isn't listening though. He's just getting madder and madder.
I think I explained to him, calmly mind, and with differing words, ten times in a row what had happened. But he wasn't listening.
He was just getting madder.

Finally he got it.
And instantly wants Miss6 and BabyBoy3's cartoon recording stopped immediately.
I'm in two minds as I want them to watch their cartoon. So they can go to bed.
Boy10 would only be missing a few minutes of a film he has already seen. And it's recording anyway!
But Boy10's is adamantium and his voice just gets louder and crosser.
Eventually Mrs. Amazing hears and suggests he come upstairs and watch it on the small, but very much working, tele upstairs.
I leap on this as a perfect solution and tell Boy10. Over and over. Go watch your program upstairs. It's on. Go. Go. I am still talking calmly (I KNOW! Amazing huh!).
Boy10 however is not listening.

(Tada! I got a new badge at work!
Boy10: ‘Cool! What did you get it for?’
Pardon?... <Points at badge>)

Boy10 seems to have blown a fuse.
And in rage he starts unplugging everything connected to the tele. I am not really sure what to do. I know reaching out for him would be a huge mistake. He wants a fight. Any physical contact will go badly right now.
So I sit on the sofa with Miss6 and BabyBoy3 smiling and being happy with them. So they don't freak out or sense the stress in the room. And they don't.
Somehow.

Boy10 finally leaves.
Everything unplugged. Tele nearly knocked over. He had to abandon his plan to remove the scart cable. As it's an old tele and pretty heavy. I'd help obv. if he asked... But he's not really going to ask for my help right now.
Before he goes he stops to throw a big cushion at my head. Not fun-ly (real word) either.
Right at my head. With malice. I manage to ninja it aside and it wallops into the glass light shade.
Which wobbles…. OOOOOO! … and does NOT break!
Phew.

I smile to Miss6 and BabyBoy3 to show them nothing is wrong.
But inside I am a twisted wreck of anger and stress. Outside. Happy Daddy.
I start reconnecting the cables. Boy10 appears again. And hits me with a pillow. As hard as he can.
It's a pillow so I am fine. But he is not playing. Despite his poor choice of weapons.
A few more hits. And I realise I am more in danger of being knocked into the tele by a pillow and falling over. Then actually being hurt by something so soft.
So I move into more space and put my arms by my side. My decision is just to let him hit me with the pillow as much as he likes.
Let him burn his anger out.

No idea if that's a good tactic or not.
Someone did that to me once when I was young. I felt really helpless and embarrassed afterwards. So I am not sure it was the best choice.
But it's what I choose in that moment.

Boy10 goes at me for a bit.
But quickly realises pillows are not doing what he wants. Which is to hurt me.
So he moves in to start shoving me. Softly. He's only ten.
But that changes the tone of what is going on for me. This is now aggressive behaviour that I can't tolerate. It needs to end instantly.
I buffet his hands away and start towards him. Calmly mind.
Telling Boy10 to go his room. He is done here.
Go. Go.

A get another pillow thrown at me down the stairs.
But finally he is gone. I move back to Miss6 and BabyBoy3.
Put on a lovely, the world is all fine, la-la-la-laaaa, Sarah and Duck on tele.
They appear unfazed by everything.
Good.

(Sarah: ‘Ooo that weekend was rather heavy Duck’
Sarah: ‘I’m still seeing talking rainbows...’
Duck: ‘QUACK’

Meanwhile.
Upstairs Mrs. Amazing has taken over with Boy10. And he is releasing all his frustrations.
By shouting. Very loudly at the Mrs. Amazing. His room. His toys. The universe basically.
I imagine there was fist shaking too.
<Shakes fist>

Eventually there is quiet.
A deep bath is run for Boy10. CD player put next to bath for Boy10 to listen to, and focus on. Boy10 in bath. Mrs. Amazing calls down for Miss6 and BabyBoy3. I respond we are on our way.
Bedtime is a go.

Me and Miss6 have a lovely giggling story time.
Afterwards I pass Boy10 on the stairs. He gives me the dirtiest of looks. Like I was Piers Morgan. Utter contempt and hatred.
I smile back nicely. But he is clearly furious with me.
I head down stairs and continue tidying up. Feeling very exhausted and emotionally drained from keeping my cool with Boy10.
But the kitchen is a mess and there's lots of chocolates to eat.

After his bath.
Boy10 comes down to watch something. Eyes pretty red.
I sit next to him and say something nice and a bit funny (I believe).
Lighthearted anyway.

Boy10: <Looks furious> 'Shut up!'

Right.
Yes rude. Yes not acceptable. But this is not the right time.
I try once more to talk to him. He makes it very clear everything is my fault and he is furious with me. Fine. I leave.
Back to cleaning for me and hoovering up leftover snacks.

I go find Mrs. Amazing.
And ask her to please have a word with Boy10. Team Parent (yay!) quickly discuss stuff.
Military camp?
Mrs. Amazing: 'Yes. Siberia'
Nice….
We agree there is nothing to be gained in telling Boy10 off tonight.
But Mrs. Amazing asks there's anything I need from Boy10. An apology?
I am pretty sick of him right now. So I say so. Mrs. Amazing understands.
I add that I don't think it's good Boy10 goes to bed thinking everything is my fault.
Mrs. Amazing agrees and says she'll have a word.

I can hear BabyBoy3 still awake.
So go to put him back to bed. He tells me that if I don't give him his shield to go with his sword. He won't be my friend. I tell him it doesn't matter he will always be my BabyBoy3 and I love him. Now give me the sword, why have you got a sword? It’s bedtime!
BabyBoy3 stabs me in the tummy with his LEGO sword and after some encouragement goes back to bed. Without sword.
I leave. Feeling pretty unloved and stabbed. <Bottom lip out>
And head back to the kitchen mess.

Some music is needed.
And it soon weaves it magical magicy magic ness works. I lose myself in music. And I shift my 'Nobody loves me' mood. Mrs. Amazing finds me and asks if I can get Boy10 a USB cable for his walkman MP3 player. I find one and head upstairs.
Not knowing what Mrs. Amazing has said to Boy10. I didn't ask.
Mrs. Amazing may have set up this whole situation so we could make peace.
Or Boy10 could have her asked to set this up so we could make peace.
Or...

... this was all a test and I can finally take my place as an Avenger! or there's an exhausted little boy (Boy10) upstairs just wanting to listen something before he goes to bed. Chill himself out. Wonder where he might have got that habit from?...
<Puts on louder music>

There's no point discussing what has happened with him.
Mrs. Amazing has more than likely covered it all. So I just help him setup his music.
Boy10 is being nice. But is clearly very close to the edge still. His anger gone though. Burnt out. Hormones stopped messing with his head.
Boy10 is no longer glaring at me as though I'd eaten all his sweets again and deleted all his saved Minecraft worlds. (Which I would never do, some things are sacrosanct).
I sort his MP3 player out.

I wish Boy10 goodnight.
And pull him into my arms without really thinking about it. In hindsight this could have gone bad. Really bad. Boy10 could have felt trapped and got cross again.
But as I embrace him in a standing hug. He doesn't resist.
We hug each other hard with a lot of feeling.
A good squeeze if you will.

Now I am probably could be wrong.
But to me that hug felt like sorry - I love you Dad.
In one hug all is forgiven.
<Hands back all the LEGO man heads I had removed as revenge>
For both of us.

I'm in bed by 9:30pm that night.
Having bathed for at least an hour. I even took a beer up with me.
My body worn out and tight everywhere from contained stress and frustration. I don't sleep great for the same reason.
I find it really hard keeping all those emotions in and keeping my cool. And my body pays a price for it. Must get better at letting stress and frustration go.
<Makes note>
<Loses note>

(This is the metaphorical armies of hormones Team Parent (yay!)
will face in the <Shudders> teenage years… thrice...
<Orders forty giant eagles>)

Especially as Boy10 is only ten.
We've not even hit the teenage years yet. And Miss6 isn't that far behind…
And then there's BabyBoy3…
Theoretically and technically they could all be in their teens at the same time - Boy19, Miss16 and BabyBoy13!!!
<Gives you a very wide eyed look>
<Signs up to as many pubs meditation classes as possible>
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6 January 2016

What a Difference a Day Makes...

Awwww!
What a lovely walk into school with Miss4 this morning it was.

It was bloody nippy a bit crisp in the air.
So we were wrapped up warm. We even held hands as we walked to keep warm. Result.
Obviously it's nice to hold her tiny hand. Very paternal and all that.
But also holding her hand means she cannot dawdle, brain explodingly slow, behind me as we walk.
But hey! she doesn't need to know that.

As we walked she thought it was hilarious to walk extremely close to me.
It was. So close that every now and then I thought I might accidentally boot her clear over the houses in front of us.
YES! TEN POINTS <Does conversion dance>
I resisted any such temptation and did my best not to knock her flying with relatively enormous legs. But it did feel good to have some physical interaction with her. I feel we don't have enough rough and tough together.

(Gilbert isn't her real name… It’s Bernard)

I am very aware she is girl (it's the endless talking) and so historically and traditionally Miss4 is probably less inclined, to engaging in behaviours that could (could) be regarded as boyish. Rough and tough. Tomfoolery. Punchies. That stuff.
But also on the other hand....
… That's utter bollocks. Miss4 is four and can, and should, being doing whatever the hell she wants to be doing. Really.
I am also aware that I mustn't (ooo that word feels dirty) over compensate and engage in her super hyper idiotic boyish behaviour...

Right! You pick up the flaming napkin...
'Won't that hurt?'
Maybe... Pat it from hand to hand <Demonstrates hand to hand patting>
'OK...'
Run with the flaming napkin to the wall
'Uh huh' <looks incredulously squinty at me>
Headbutt the wall... hard...
'Why?'
Why what? Look do you want to play?
<Nods>
Headbutt the wall, then find the nearest person and give them a dead arm
'Uh huh' <is considering running>
Obviously if a bundle starts,we all switch to battle Royale mode, with the normal rules and safety words
<Looks blankly at me>
It'll be fun
'OooooK...'
[Mrs. Amazing walks in front door]
Mrs. Amazing: I'm home!
Shiiiiiit!
<Whispers loudly> Game’s off! Quick hide everything
<Looks serious at Miss4>
Say nothing of this… <Shakes fist>
'Yes Dad'
<Runs off to tell Mrs. Amazing all>
<Runs>

However if she's there when we play 'Flaming napkin head smack punch bundle' she's more than welcome. She can even have a cushion to use (for the wall).

But I remember that at this age Boy8 was well into this kind of, supposed, boyish behaviour.
I didn't have to suggest it or anything, it just seemed to come naturally from him. He liked nothing more than trying to trip me as walked.
And me him back, obv. #BestSentenceEVER!
Still I am going to ignore that they are different sexes, because it’s more likely that they are different people.
End of.

BabyBoy1 is rubbish at walking with.
Rubbish, but very cute and fluffy and funny and adorable. He's like walking with a maximum zoomed cross hair dented bouncy ball, you never know where it's going to go. It's all over the place. And he stops to investigate everything....

'AH AH AH AH' (* 'Holly mother fudging play mobiles! Dad look at this!')
Yeah... sweet... A tree....
<Glances at the thousands and thousands of other trees>
Really amazing mate...
Worth stopping for...
Everytime...
[We walk on 30 cm]
'AH AH AH OOOOOOOOOOOOOoooo' (* 'Well change my nappy, and dunk my butt, ANOTHER TREE!')
<Rolls eyes>
Yep... ANOTHER tree...
<Glances at watch>
We're gonna miss Octonauts at this rate

But don't get me wrong.
Walking with BabyBoy1 is brilliant fun. Slow. But brilliant. And no one loves walking more than that little boy. Especially into puddles and mud.
Just don't be in a rush or near a forest when you go.

So that was today with Miss4.
Happy Daddy and daughter walk into school. We chatted about rude words she knew; bum(s), stinky, snot. And what they rhymed with. Rhyming is very important and educational.
My turn... Rhyme ‘ducking mat mit glad’...

We were even early to school today and had time to run around the playground for a bit. Well until an adult that knew me showed up and I had to stop. And you know, talk.
Ah well. It was a nice chat.
I got a kiss from Miss4 goodbye and she even said she loved me.
It's all I want from my morning drop off.
#Winning #DaughtersLove

Yesterday though was different.
Much like bricks and meringues are different. Like farting and hugging are different. Like my thoughts on what an early night should entail, and Mrs. Amazings...

<Both leap into bed>
'Soooo... Kids are all asleep'
'I'm not too tired out...'
'It's not that late...'
<Grins at me>
You don't mean?...
<Grins too>
'Yes'
[Both reach for..]
<Mrs. Amazing pulls out a pen and the meal planner diary>
<I pull out a Monopoly board>
Ohhhh... Crap
<Is hopeful> You can be the boot tophat wheelbarrow?
'What are you going to be?'
Foot high R2-D2! Smash! Smash! Beep Beep! Help me Old Kent Road, you're my only hope...
<Shakes head> No <Manages to rhyme it with sod off>
Risk?
<Gets slapped>

(Nope! Can’t find the car anywhere…)

See! utterly different.
Much like the journey into school with Miss4 yesterday was a million different than today.
A mill-e-ion.
I liked today and our walk in. Today was right. Today was lovely and made me smile all day.
Yesterday. No. Bad yesterday. Down yesterday.
Bad.

It all started going wrong just after Mrs. Amazing left with Boy8 and BabyBoy1.
I was upstairs when I heard the wailing.
Miss4, despite having had, and had given three separate goodbye kisses and hugs to Mrs. Amazing, still felt Mrs. Amazing had left without saying goodbye. It upset her.
As I walked downstairs, I found her wailing at the window and after asking her to lower her pitch a few octaves I gathered why she was upset.

What's wrong?
‘Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee’
What now?
‘Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee’
Calm down... Use words... Less high…
‘MumEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee’
Oh. I see and I believe her

Miss4 had been pretty waily and emotional all morning.
So like any good swine sensible and emotionally connected Dad (like I beith) I ignored her totally. And left her wailing.
Hoping she would stop on her own, as she was being a bit silly. Four year-olds huh!
She didn't stop. I had to go and cheer her up. But the damage had been done.
I am not going to go into much detail, but the battle highlights are:

1. Putting on her shoes for her. Four times. And then having to hold them on, whilst being hit.

2. Turning my back and seeing her coat and fleece thrown off. Again.

3. Trying to put Miss4 down on the floor, but being unable to as she had tucked up her legs. It's a back breaker. I laid her on her face in the end.

4. Lifting Miss4 out of the door, so she had to stand, and then watching her run off before I had my shoes on. (She didn't go far, she's four).

5. Walking half the way to school with Miss4 running 10m ahead of me, glancing over her shoulder to blow raspberries at me.

6. Having to walk past two Mum's I recognise whilst carrying Miss4 along (carefully) by one arm and her screaming at massive volume...
'I DON'T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL!!!'

They quipped at me. #QuipShame
Still at least they were supportive and not judgemental. I must have looked vaguely in control at least.

7. Walking the rest of the way to school in silence. Miss4 10m behind me.

(Not everything needs a caption… Oh wait! Dangit!)

Did I do well?
Well no. Of course not. And it's all Miss'4 my fault.
I'm the adult (GAHHH!) and should have handled almost everything better. The only bit that I take comfort in is not shouting at her. At no point did I raise my voice at her. It was firm and bloody minded about clear what I wanted. But I never shouted.
<Pats own back, a little>
I also should have realised it was her first day back at school. In only her second term ever. Miss4 was probably full of worries and concerns and stresses. She loves her teacher, has friends, loves school. But she was probably still worried about it all.
I should have known that, thought about it, and been more fun and understanding.
Failing that I should have bribed her with bling chocolate.

We were late to school, obv.
Luckily her teacher was still at the door. I hugged Miss4 until she stopped ignoring me, and then finally give me a hug goodbye.
No kiss. But the hug was enough.
The hug calmed me as well and I suddenly realised all my many mistakes this morning and quickly turned it around. I made her laugh and smile, and told her much I loved her, and Miss4 went in smiling.
I know I cannot remove Miss4's worries about school. Or stop her feeling them.
But I can definitely make sure I don't add to them.

I also refrained from wishing her, underpaid, teacher good luck.