KABOOOOMMMMMMMMM!

Thunder and lightning.

It is a little bit frightening isn't it?

And no I'm not being a wuss. You go stand outside in a storm holding a metal plate and then tell me how brave you are...

Mrs. Amazing: ‘What on earth are you doing?’

<Is cold and wet> I'm proving a point!!!

Mrs. Amazing: ‘You have nothing to prove! We all know you're an idiot!’

Mrs. Amazing: ‘To who?’

The internet! About how a storm is scary even for big tough men like me!

Mrs. Amazing: <Rolls eyes> ‘... But you’re not big and tough? Oh...’

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Are those Miss5's Thomas the tank Engine slippers?’

Yes! My feet were getting wet!

[KABOOOMMMMM]

Oh crap! That was close... <Is scared>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Have fun!’ <Closes door and draws curtains>

(In his later years, Superman, forgets himself and playfully kicks a stone at a tree…)

There was a storm last night.

Stormwise in the UK we don't get enormous and life threatening storms very often. I think the last big storm was some thirty years ago and is spoken about, akin to an urban legend, by those old enough to remember it.

Which annoyingly includes me…

Did I ever tell you about the Great Storm of 87'?

Boy8: ‘87 what?’

1987 - the year. The Great Storm of 87!

Boy8: ‘We’re you alive then? Was there Vikings?’

<Feels old>

Yes. Eric the Bloody Frickin’ Nutter was my name. I was a florist..

I remember that storm because it fell (yes, fell) so many trees there was no electricity or school for two weeks. We played board games and card games by candlelight each night.

Best two weeks ever.

Last nights storm though, wasn't a big storm.

But it was loud. It was loud enough to wake me and I slept through the Great, but terrible because there was a lot of destruction, so great only in a size kind of way, Storm of '87.

[KABOOOOOM]

Team Parents (yay!) we're knackered.

For a change. Normally Mrs. Amazing would be out of bed watching nature show off and I’d be trying very hard, but failing, to get to sleep with Mrs. Amazing telling me all about the storm.

But not this time. We were both so knackered and just laid and listened to the storm.

[KABOOOOOM]

However a storm is different with kids.

Elsewhere in the house are Boy8, Miss5 and BabyBoy2. Who we’ve already spent two hours convincing to go to sleep.

And Mrs. Nature, Gaia, old Mrs. KABOOOOM-BZZZZZ-SPLAT-ARGGHH, is trying to wake them all up.

It's quite annoying.

Miss5 is the first up.

Which is fair enough. Miss5 had come that day feeling poorly, with a headache. It was so likely that she was going to be first up, Team Parents (yay!) hadn't even put a bet on it...

Which monkey do you think will be up first?

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Bubbles Miss5. She wakes at this time of night anyway...’ <Looks sad about it>

Does she?

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Yes. Captain Sleep-through-anything’

General, thank you. General Sleep-through-anything. I got promoted.

You know you can wake me, don’t you? I'm cool with it

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Yes, but that, in itself, can be harder and take longer than just putting Miss5 back to bed myself’

<Shrugs shoulder> It's 'cause I’m innocent, and work so hard every day

<Both laugh>

(Don’t look at me like that… You know why I’m wearing the mask…)

My money is on Boy8 to be first in.

He loves not-sleeping. He loves talking at us in the middle of the night.

You'll notice how BabyBoy2 isn't even an out-runner here. A combination of being solidly asleep like only the tiny can be, being trapped in a cage cot, and being awesome. Mean that unless there's a particularly big thunder crash that sets off car alarms.

BabyBoy2 isn't likely to wake.

It's an innocent thing I am sure.

[KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM-OMMMMMMMM]

Miss5 darts in.

I owe you £5. Damn it.

Miss5: 'Mummy I'm scar...'

And it feels like nature is taking the piss a little here. Poor Miss5.

As Miss5 already sounds scared and is rushing in to get a cuddle so she can feel safe. What she doesn't need right now is...

[KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM-MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM-MMMMMMMMMMMMM]

Miss5: '.... ekkkkkkk!’ <Dives into bed and hides>

Team Parents (yay!) do their best to calm Miss5.

Poor thing is shaking.

[KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM-MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM-MMMMMMMMMMMMM]

Boy8 walks in.

He does not look scared, and frankly I just think he is just cashing in on the being up fun. But I can’t prove it.

I sit up in bed ready to grab him and then send him back to bed. It’s easier to head them off at the pass. My plan half works as we hug, but he then outmaneuvers me and curls up on my pillow, right behind me..

I am now stuck sitting up.

Come on! Move... I am soooo tired! <Lamely swats at Boy8 trying to get him to move>

There's nothing to be scared of, the storm is probably gon...

[KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM-MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM-MMMMMMMMMMMMM]

Fine.

I shove Boy8 across so I can lay down.

And us four lay in bed counting how many seconds between the lightning flashes and thunder

[KABOOOOM!]

When it gets to nineteen seconds Boy8 agrees to go back to bed.

The storm has passed. I get my spot back in bed. It so much easier to sleep without someone the exact heat of the sun, and kicky, next to me. YAY!

Mrs. Amazing envies my ample adult space in the bed copies my lead and suggests Miss5 head back to bed.

Miss5 is less than keen.

Team Parents (yay!) have a quick discussion.

Somehow, I am dramatically out voted and find myself, a short time later in Miss5's bed trying to explain to her why she should stay in bed.

Why the storm is nothing to worry about as it’s passed by.

And why it’s still thundering, although it’s gone.

I explain it pretty well I think. Static electricity, basic atmospheric pressure theory, clouds, moisture.

You know, weathery stuff.

I am clear, factual and concise. I avoid mentioning about the raw power and the deathy-side of electricity too. It’s not so great for the sleeping I guess.

Miss5 disagrees with my ‘theory’ and instead presents her own madness…

Miss5: ‘No Daddy. The thunder is when the clouds drive into each other’

Miss5: <Does hand actions> ‘CRASH! That’s the thunder!’

No. That's wrong. Is it?

Miss5: ‘Uh-huh... And the rumble afterwards is the sound of the clouds falling down to the ground’

Wrongo! Er…

I don’t like Miss5 to misunderstand stuff. I like to correct.

But it’s late. I'm very tired….

Erm… well… <Is debating with self>

I’ve done well so far. But I bet I side into more deathy-stuff and scare the bejesus out of her correcting her theory. Lightning zaps. BOOM. That side...

...Er…

Miss5: <Getting impatient...>

I am really tired. Whatever... <Throws up arms>

Yes Miss5. That's exactly right...

Miss5: <Smiles with satisfaction>

… now go to sleep...

Miss5: <Rolls over happy and ready to sleep> 'Night Daddy'

Night <Heart fills with joy and love>... Zzz

[Fifteen minutes later]

<Wakes and sneaks out of Miss5's bed like a crap ninja>

<Sneaks back into my own bed> ... Ahhhhh <Is loving the sheets>

Mrs. Amazing: '... Zzz...zzz...zzz...'

<Gives Mrs. Amazing a look> <Bounces the bed a bit>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Zzz... ZzzT!’ <Snoring stops>

... Ahhhhh ... <Snuggles down>

[It starts to piss down with rain... finally]

<Thinks of the Cat shut outside. In the rain. Is cool with it>

<Sleeps like a baby…>

(left to right: Duck, Cloud Captain (the inspiration for Miss5’s meteorological knowledge), Derek Griffiths (the Cloud Captain!, frickin’ SUPERTED!!!!), Sarah)

Sympathy for the Tired Dad (or the lack of it)...

A friend said this morning…

That he, now has more sympathy for Dads when they say they are tired (as he had his own child).

Wasn't he sympathetic before?

What part of me looking exhausted and walking into walls all day, didn't invoke sympathy? Does he hate me?

Did he think that was just me, and that's how I behave when not in a pub?

The swine!

Oh hang on... pre-children I was the same. Oh yeah...

Crap.

It's a weird one for men.

Until you have kids, you probably don't really care about them. Or know about them. Or think about them. They are something that happens to others.

Kind of like giving up smoking, or exercising. Until it happens...

Which is pretty weird when you think about it. Why don't we?

We were all kids at some point.

Men (I know) don't tend to talk about children and the impact they can have on your life in the future. Even after they've had their own.

Claiming you are tired and didn't get any sleep is normally ignored. As the person you are telling invariably was out drinking until 5am last night and got up fine that morning:

What's the big problem? Don't be such a wuss.

But it's not the same.

It's not one night of no-sleep that mushes up your mind.

It's day after day of it, for years, that does it...

Anyway, let's stop that. It’s dumb. Start talking, share the pain, so we can all be ready for it.

For my part, I present a reference guide for non-Dad's on what that new Dad in your life is going through.

So you can be more sympathetic (ha ha as if)...

Day 1: She's, he's, it's a miracle!

The world has never been so beautiful. It has never made so much sense. I am one with the universe and at peace.

I'll sleep later when less awesome stuff is going on.

Sleep status: None, but who cares

(We offer this lion cub as a sacrifice… Oh wait wrong speech….)

Week 1: Virility is my bitch

An overwhelming sense of pride may manifest.

Look what I made! I made this. Me! This tiny baby is here because I was involved.

No one else has ever made anything so beautiful!

<Does dance>

Yeah, you can touch me if you like, yeah! BABY MAKER!

<Shows off guns> BEST BABY EVER!!!

Sleep status: Bits and bobs, but I am tough, I don't need sleep

Month 1: What the hell does everyone moan about? This is easy!

Baby is attached to Mum.

You're there helping all you can, but you’re getting some sleep.

What's the big problem? Why do people go on and on about this baby lark, really... it's very simple.

Change nappy... nappy changed

Feed baby... baby fed

<Tiny baby cries with tiny voice>

There there <Does one pat>

<Baby goes back to sleep for hours, without fuss>

HELL I'm not even tired!

<Is beaten by exhausted wife>

Sleep status: Not much sleep, but sleep tank is plenty full. I'll catch up later... Ooooo Die Hard is on...

Month 3: Actually I'm quite tired now

Mum and baby are no longer so attached. Dad is turfed out of bed during the night.

Bottles may have been introduced. Work now expects you to work, at work. -Gits.-

You return home, not as the man work done for the day and needing rest, but now as the family relief column (!).

I feel like I haven't slept properly in years

Mate: 'It's only been 3 months?'

Yeah but it FEELS like three years

Mate: 'Oh...'

Mate: '... Just imagine how it's going to feel in another three months'

<Weeps>

Sleep status: Sleep tank light is now flashing. Really need to catch up soon.

Month 6: It moved! CRAPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

That little baby that used to take five minutes to go sleep? That laid still and went to sleep?

That's baby's gone.

It's been replaced by a moving time vampire. Sucking hours out of your sleep every night, at all times.

So often in fact, you start forgetting how much sleep you're not getting.

[Spent three hours coaxing baby back to sleep and is finally sneakily out]

<Lorry steams past house making a right racket>

<Bricks it the baby will wake>

<Baby stays asleep>

<Wipes brow and whispers> phew

Baby: 'WAHHHHHHH' (* 'I heard something! ARGHGH!')

Sleep status: Sleep tank is now empty. But found reserve tank in leg (?) manage to keep running on that. Damn the consequences.

Year 1: Beautiful fun

Your mini-me or mini-her now means everything to you.

And you spoil them, indulge them, and generally live for them. Face it.

And it's bliss. You play all the time and have the best time ever. May these happy days never end.

Physically you are now being taxed as well. Throwing babies about looks awesome, and is. But it is still exhausting. You carry everything you can to help. You've muscles and want to use them.

At the same time, every, EVERY, illness in the world arrives at your door to make a sleepless, fatigue driven, muscles broken, illness party. yay.

Sleep is now what bastards do.

Sleep status: There needs to be new word for when you're this tired. Sleepageddon? Exhausetdead? Slombied? (I like Slombie!)

(Despite wanting to be the Fonz soooo much, I realise, now, I was Ralph Mouth Richie Cunningham... Meh)

Year 2: No more happy days

The armies of illnesses continue to break any recovery sleep you may be getting. Sanity is starting to become an issue.

And about now work gets harder and you need more money. Car explodes. Roof gives up. Boiler does the world's longest death scene. Ketchup is empty. yay.

Oh and baby has become a fussy bugger wilful.

But if you don't want the red plate, your favourite plate... or the yellow plate, yesterday's favourite plate... or the green plate, because we ONLY HAVE THREE plates... THEN WHICH plate do you want???

Child2: <Takes red plate>

Your favourite? I knew it... <Regrets comment instantly>

Child2: <Throws red plate at you and breaks down in angry, angry tears>

<Thinks of happy place>

Sleep status: Ow wall. Ow door. Ow floor. Must sleep... I just need seven years... Zzz <Sleeps on stairs>

Year3: 'This town ain't big enough for us both'

Yes it is

Year3: 'No it isn't' <Takes off shoes to annoy>

Yes it is, it has to be

Year3: 'No it isn't' <Drops stuff on floor, same theme>

Look look... lets not argue about something so silly.. Let's just have fun! OK?

Year3: 'I wasn't arguing' <Picks nose and wipes it on wall, because ARGHGH>

No no. I'm not doing that... We are not arguing about if we're arguing. No way.

Year3: '...' <More nose picking, kicks own feet>

Year3: '... you were...'

<Explodes and is remembered fondly>

Sleep status: Sleep? What's that? Can you use it in a sentence. It rings bells...

Year 4+:

A good night sleep is now killer. Your body has adjusted to tiny bits of sleep. So when you finally get some rest, it hurts. Then the next night you can't sleep.

Then you go out thinking the worst is over, and you can cope.

Later, at 4am still drunk, hiccuping and swaying in the moonlight, as Year4 pats your back, back, it all seems worth it. Even if it's going to take another hour to finally convince them that being naked will just get them cold.

You realise the worst is probably done....

… but still sleep deprived and forgetting what has gone before (really it does that), you suggest another child would be cool. You would like the set, or a spare.

You lucky idiot.

Sleep status: Accepted that sleep is long, long gone, a distant memory and just enjoy a house full of loonies children.

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