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!).
X

17 February 2016

Bragging About My Baby

Babies are brilliant.
They really are.

In my world, men don’t really talk about babies.
Well they do but it seems only through the tedious medium of moaning, or complaint.
Bragging about your baby may get you shot ignored.

Which is a shame.
I like to talk about things I love. I like to be in the pub library with other men, the ‘Lads’.
It would be nice to be able to talk about something incredibly important in my life without ridicule, looks of disgust, everyone else moving table, or being given a new girl's name for the evening.

(I'm off to the library again, lots of research... don't wait up...)

But don't cry for me South American nation.
I have a few Dad mates that are like me. Yes they exist and can visited at weekends.
But it’s a bit like a secret club at times. You can only meet in pairs. Anymore and we must all fall back to our default positions of low ‘Lad’ mentality. I assume it’s for safety.
And obviously you have to have known the person for at least fifteen...maybe twenty years...

'How's BabyBoy1?'
Brilliant, his balance is improving, his funky chicken rocks....
[Another male walks by]
... and the manifold sprocket bust, bits chuffing everywhere
'No! What a twat'
<Nods>
[Other male passes]
BabyBoy1's got new cars, he loves them, he holds them in his hands and walks about with them all the time. Proper car love. Hella cute
'That is so coo...'
[Lady brings Guinessess'ssess to the table]
'... so I said “Do your own damn numbers bunt”...'
[Lady leaves]
Wanna see some pics?
'DO I!'

Talking about babies is, and probably will always be, the arena of the baby creators.
Shame. <Sighs>

(So it says you just add fruit and veg... and you get a baby!
'Why didn't we have one of these before...?' <Weeps>)

Anyhoo...

I thought that instead of going quietly into the night I would instead demonstrate, through the magic or wordicles that, actually talking about babies is reet 'Lad' culture. A much as....
<Thinking of something PC to put>...
... as revelling and enjoying a shared experience of a third party's physical achievements whilst engaging in a pre-defined competitive environment.
Some may call it sport.

First, you need to see this picture. It tells one hell of a story.

(No comment is needed. None. Nadda. Comment less this shall remain)

A first glance it's my awesome little dude just BabyBoy1.
But it is more than that. A lot more. That's a Lego cup YEAH!
It’s BabyBoy1 using a spoon to open the Golden syrup tin. So he can eat it.
Here comes the science convincing wordicles…
<Winks>

1) BabyBoy1 has mad skillzs
BabyBoy1 is holding a spoon.
It has taken him nearly eighteen months to learn how to use a spoon like that.
Can you imagine the complex motor controls BabyBoy1 has had to master just to be able to jam that spoon into that lid. Finger muscles, arms muscles, brain thingy shouting at those things, pressure, grip.
Exactly the same fine motor control you need to smash an opponent's face into the floor weapon fighting on the Xii-Station. Eighteen months ago, BabyBoy1 could barely move his eyes.
Forget batting or 'amazing' feet skills. That my friends is some serious skills right there.

2) Physical perfection in action
BabyBoy1's whole body is doing one thing.
Think of a golf swing if you will, it's not the arms, it's not the head. It's just dull. It's the whole body. Take punching - it's not the fist that hurts, it's every other single muscle in the body focusing their energy into that punch that hurts. He's like a fielder diving for a ball, totally commitment to a single focused task.
BabyBoy1 is doing the same, his legs are twirled around the chair for grip and leverage. His shoulders are dropped like a rugby player would to get the most out of his arms. All muscles are working together to open that tin.
Hell yeah he wants that tin open.

3) BabyBoy1 is wearing R2-D2 jammies
That's hella cool, why don't they do those in adult sizes?
I need not expand any further.

4) Making a plan and sticking to it
BabyBoy1 knows it's Golden Syrup in that tin
He has watched and learnt. He has been taking mental notes like a feet skills manager would, he has mental stats of when and how the tin is used each morning. Miss5 spills it everywhere.
BabyBoy1 knows that if he could only get the lid off, he could the contents into his mouth, and he knows that would be good.
BabyBoy1 has developed a plan, a goal if that pleases you more, and he is driving himself towards success.
He may fail, he may succeed. BabyBoy1 doesn't care.
BabyBoy1 has a plan and he is sticking to it.

Image result for pouring golden syrup
(The plan... and the reward)

5) The right tool for the job
Like a carpenter's apprentice that has been watching his master carve delicate woodwork.
BabyBoy1 isn't holding a spatula, or a fork, or knife. He's watched and learnt. He's stolen got a spoon, the right tool for the job. #proud
Using the most complex and delicate of tools, the spoon of opening, the apprentice has taken his chance and has started to emulate his master(s), and open the damn tin.

6) He’s basically a syrup ninja
BabyBoy1 has gotten where he is right now, through stealth, guile and sneakiness.
Not unlike... a NINJA.
BabyBoy1 has quietly picked up a non-baby spoon (his are plastic) without anyone noticing  (I'm thinking Great Escape and dirt falling out of trousers that no one sees).
Without anyone noticing, he's managed to climb up onto the table and grab the syrup tin. NINJA!
And he had quite a few attempts at prising the lid open before the narks Team Parent (yay!) spotted him.
Whoop whoop... duck the police.

See!
That has to be something worth talking about at the pub library with your mates.
Tools, ninja's, surveillance, motor stuff, achievements, fighting the power... All winners.

As I said. Babies are brilliant. They really are.

And no, BabyBoy1 didn't manage to open the tin and make an enormous mess :)
Yet.


Epilogue:


[At the pub library, armed with the above]
Hey guys! I've got a great 'Lad' story to tell you...
Lad1: 'About the boy and the syrup?'
Yeah!
Lad1: Read it, liked it, it spoke to my soul was nice, moving on...'
<Lad 2,3,4,5 all nod>
Lad1: Oh and don't do the quotes around Lad anymore
Lad1: We all hate it
<Lads 2,3,4,5 all nod>
Fine <Does air quotes under the table>
Lad1: 'Now did anyone see that slow, drawn out, friendly draw match last night? Wasn't it brilliant'
Lads 2,3,4,5: 'Yeahhhh!'

No <Is bored> <Dreams of rainbows>