Twas the Night Before Secondary School...

It twas the night before Boy11 started Secondary school.

And all through the house, not a creature was stirring.

Not one of the terrors children, were out of bed.

They were all asleep.

Amazing.

I had been to Ninja training class.

Which is my weekly nod to being healthy. It kinda of works.

I do tend to come home super proud of myself. And then eat thousands of crisps. And chocolate. And cheese. And chocolate. Thus undoing all my good and exhausting work.

Normally my class is an hour and a half of pain. But fearing that it may harder to get Boy11 to sleep than Mrs. Amazing me on Xmas eve.

I came home early from class.

(Mrs. Amazing: ‘What you having for tea?’

<Whispers> Chocolate <Normal voice> salad!

Mrs. Amazing: ‘I heard that!’

<Runs Waddles>)

Mrs. Amazing: 'You're back early!' <Pushes all the chocolate wrappers off the table>

Yeah... I'm shattered. I think my knees hate me now.

Mrs. Amazing: 'Hard class?'

Yeah.... <Pulls self in using only lips>

<From floor> How was Boy11 getting to sleep tonight?

Mrs. Amazing: 'Fine'

That bad huh? Well it's no surp.... HANG ON? What did you say?

Mrs. Amazing: 'Fine!'

<Is shocked>

I was shocked.

Normally anything exciting happening and Boy11 struggles to sleep. Which is totes fair enough. Excitement affects us all in different ways. Some talk incessantly about it <Looks at Miss7>, some go all quiet and just want to be busy (me), some jump on furniture and shout in joy <Looks at BabyBoy4>, and some like winding everyone up by making weird noises, bugging siblings, and refusing to sleep <Looks at Boy11>.

I was happy for Mrs. Amazing and the calm bedtime she had had haddy had had. But a little puzzled why she was looking quite so eye-twitchy, I asked how the others were.

BabyBoy4 was fine. Yay!

Miss7 however...

Mrs. Amazing: <Mimes throttling>

And therein lies the rub of parenting with more than one child.

When the one behaves. The others seem to take it as a personal challenge to hold up the parental-irritation levels for the kids team. yay-love them.

However there was a reason. It had been Miss7's first day at her Junior school. She was pretty wired.

I'm not sure why, but I feel Miss7 has not got the attention she should have got for her first day. Don't get me wrong, Team Parent (yay!) were there in full force. All both of us (and BabyBoy4) dropped her off at the school in the morning.

It's just that it was overshadowed by Boy11's huge school change from Primary to Secondary. Miss7, in comparison, was just going from Infant to Junior.

And what can you say about that. Poor middle child.

<Feels her pain>

(<Dyes hair purple>

<Is called into a meeting at work>

<Is told hair is awesome>)

I am still amazed about Boy11.

So much was changing for him. New bag, new uniform, new school, new teachers, new kids at school, he got a COMPASS!

And there he was fast asleep. At a reasonable time. A-maze-bloody-ing.

Obvs. being the Boy11 that he is, he had packed and unpacked his rucksack a few times that night, and most nights that week. Which is fine. He was well prepared.

We had also practised his walk in, so he knew where he was going and stuff. We timed it.

How he was actually going in wasn't fully decided until that morning. Either a lift with Mrs. Amazing, or walk with mates. Boy11 choose a lift.

I wasn't there when this decision was made. But I am pretty sure that had Mrs. Amazing been free to express her feelings about his decision. Mrs. Amazing would have been cartwheeling and back-flipping around the house letting of fireworks.

I suspect she was happy to be involved.

I was not (involved).

My path and destiny that day lay elsewhere, I was starting my journey to the windy mountains.

Miss7 had her second day at Junior school and BabyBoy4 needed to be looked after.

As he didn't start school until the day after (oh flipping yes, what a week).

So me and Miss7 and BabyBoy4 waved Boy11 goodbye calmly and cooly to Boy11.

Oh who am I kidding. I hugged the crap out of Boy11.

As Boy11 climbed into the car. The excitement got to me. So I started to poke him, friendly style. Slapping his cheeks softly, friendly like. Basically using his little body as a drum. Boy11 laughed a lot. And it really eased my nerves. So that was good.

Not sure how healthy that is really.

But then I also think that is how boys communicate sometimes...

Yo bruv! <Gives bruv dead arm>

Bruv1: 'Yo back' <Punches me back>

You good? <Gives knee strike dead leg>

Bruv1: 'Yeah mate! Really good' <Thwacks me over the head>

Sorry can't stop <Flicks bruvs ear as leaving>

Bruv1: 'No worries, see ya soon <Leg sweeps me, missing, pretends to be stretching>

<Both leave and out of sight of each other, rub all injured parts>

(Didn't hurt! <Is lying>
Tis but a scratch)

Then with Boy11 gone.

Me and Miss7 and BabyBoy4 headed off. Fifteen minutes walk, BabyBoy4 on scooter, and I had left plenty of time. +10 Dad points.

Obvs. despite doing the walk the day before. We go the wrong way.

Miss7 insists the turning we want is the next. I swear it isn't and BabyBoy4 sides with Miss7.

Democratically out-voted we pass the turning I am sure is right: a) because I remember it from yesterday, and b) because lots of people with matching school uniform to Miss7 are heading that way.

We walk on to the next turning and it's a dead end.

I say nothing and graciously walk on totally not rubbing it in Miss7's face.

#GrownRightUp.

Me and BabyBoy4 drop off Miss7.

Who is fine. Probably a bit tired. But that what happens when you are a terror going to bed.

I imagine tonight will be better as she has lost her tele access tonight. And Miss7 hates that.

A normal and reasonable bedtime is highly expected for Miss7 tonight (it was <Team Parent (yay!) high five>).

And as me and BabyBoy4 walk / scoot away from the school. I notice I have enough time to get to work. And I am feeling good. Proud of me.

Emotionally, this morning, and the previous one, have been hard going. But I've kept my dignity and at no point have I been a howling weeping father fool. #Winning.

A few minutes up the road.

Mrs. Amazing comes into view. Which is a bit surprising, but she quickly explains nothing is wrong. Just fancied joining us. Lovely.

Then another Mum joins our little group, and there's a lot of excited adult chatting going on.

And I am engaged and enjoying a natter, watching BabyBoy4 near the roads, and chatting on and off with him about mad stuff. Hearing about Boy11 and how he met up with at least eight mates before going in.

And he was fine and happy. Which is a relief.

And all is good with the world. Team Parent seem to have nailed it, and nothing has gone wrong.

Then somethings makes my foot slips a little on the floor.

I look down.

Dog smegging poo. On my shoes. BabyBoy4 missed it. I had not.

<LOTS OF SWEARY WORDS ABOUT DOG OWNERS THAT DON'T CLEAN UP AFTER THEIR DOGS, ESPECIALLY NEAR SCHOOLS>

I try cleaning it off on grass. Obvs. grass is not really clearing it off. The wrong sort of trainer grips. I think BR made the trainers or something.

The thought of being able to smell poo on my trainers all day at work doesn't really appeal.

So I leg it back home, change shoes. And am late to work.

Finally I sit down at my desk and look at my screen.

And wonder how on earth, considering all that happened this morning, all the emotions and stuff that had been flying through, how in the name of Bacon sandwiches, was I supposed to concentrate on work all day.

<Watches clock until home time to hear about Boy11's day>

X

Everybody (the Kids) Change...

What a summer we had.

It's been awesome. The UK sun has been out in force and we have made the most of it.

I obviously have found it far too hot at times, and as always have been pining for my coat and long trousers. Stupid shorts with their rubbish pockets.

The three terrors have had plenty of outside adventures and fun. During which I have utterly butterly broken my knees playing with them, and keeping up with them. #WorthIt

And despite what they might say, they have all really bonded over the past six weeks...

(BabyBoy4? How’s your summer been?

BabyBoy4: <Gives one thumb up>

<Is chuffed> That’s high praise!)

I'll be back in twenty seconds, keep eating and behave...

<Runs>

Miss7: 'Boy11 is looking at me!'

Boy11: 'I am not' <Is looking at Miss7>

BabyBoy4: <Punches with teeny fists Boy11>

Boy11: 'OW! Take that'

BabyBoy4: 'WAHHHH!'

Miss7: 'STOP LOOKING AT ME' <Screams and knocks her plate off the table>

Boy11: <Steals Miss7's crisps>

WTAF? I've only been gone fifteen seconds!

<Picks up BabyBoy4>

<Glares at Boy11>

<Moves Miss7 into my seat and gives her my food>

<Frowns at them all>

<Creaks a lot as sits>

But the summer holidays are now done.

No more lazy days in the sun building camps from sheets.

No more movie marathons in the mornings and no one getting dressed at all.

No more just playing. At least until next summer holidays that is.

No, now it's all change.

Everyone is changing schools and there's a fair bit of concern, anxiety and excitement going on. New drop off times and places.

And smeg load of new uniforms, stationary, no books weirdly, we’ve had to buy. Sigh.

Each child is dealing with the changes it in their own way.

Boy11

He's got the biggest change of all. From Primary to Secondary school.

Boy11 is going from being one of the oldest in the school to the youngest. Which should be a shock.

If I cast my mind back the few millennia to when I did that, I remember being shocked by it all. The older boys were huge, basically giants, and everything was so big. Even the chairs are suddenly adult sized.

I remember there being so many people all the people so many people. I had come from a tiny village Primary school, straight into an enormouse secondary school. I doubt I had ever seen so many children at one time before.

My first week of school I remember being very confusing as a lot of information was thrown at me, and I got lost a lot. My timetable I recall was super important to me at the time.

It was the only piece of information that was mine that I understood.

But I do recall that first week being pretty fun too. Being allowed to use flames in the science labs, cooking in a oven, being allowed to use the power tools in CDT. All pretty damn cool stuff. They let throw javelins! BONZA!

And that is what I have been filling Boy11's head with - the cool stuff that school is about to let him do.

Of course I shan't mention that in my first week of school I was set upon by a load of fifth years and was handcuffed to the goal posts on the field.

There's no need for him to know that. (I got out very quickly and conversely made a fifth year friend from it, who smuggled chocolate out of the fifth years canteen for me which was cool. Funny how things turn out).

Plus times have changed. I think. I am sure that nothing like happens any more.

The main message I've been giving to Boy11 is how cool it is going to be, and to make the most of everything they are going to offer him.

I feel I didn't make the most of secondary school when I was there. If I can help steer him away from my mistake, I will.

It might work.

Miss7

She's got the simplest of moves. As Miss7 is just changing one school for another, from Infant to Junior. All her mates will be with her. It's just a different building and new teachers.

She’s still got worries though, poor sausage. It just the change, the unknown.

It’s easy to forget what a worry that can be to children. I know because I totally forgot and it was Mrs. Amazing that reminded me.

Luckily Miss7 loves school and will be delighted to be back again. She has been working through the workbooks we give with desire and a genuine joy of learning. Bless her.

Long may that reign.

I still get to drop her off for school a few mornings a week.

Me and BabyBoy4 will see her to school first, before then doubling back for BabyBoy4's drop off. I am looking forward to the drop offs again. Yes really.

To be honest at the end of term when the drop offs stopped. I was hella glad.

I needed a break from them.

But after a weeks of just working and not taking anyone to school and stuff. Well I started missing them. It's gonna be fun!

Maybe…

WHY IS NO ONE DRESSED? WE’RE FIVE MINUTES TO GET THERE!

<Is attacked by naked children, giggling>

<Everyone is late>

BabyBoy4

In some ways he's got the biggest change ever. He's going from Nursery to Primary.

From not at school. To at school. Ooooo.

BabyBoy4 is really excited and I think it's because it's not the unknown for him, he’s going to Miss7’s previous school. It finally his time to go to school, just like Boy11 and Miss7 have been doing for years. I'm pretty sure he's just gonna be glad to be part of the 'School' gang. (Obvs. that joy may only last a day).

Team Parent are pretty sure he's ready. Can get dressed. Can use toilet. Can recognise on name. Can be trusted to only jam one nostral with pasta.

Because in the last six months he's suddenly grown up loads. Any lingering babiness has gone. <Howls>

Well except for when he wants to use it to get what he wants, obvs.

He's no fool...

Dude. Sit in the middle of your seat, or you'll fall off?

BabyBoy4: <Shakes head>

Well you've been warn...

BabyBoy4: <THUD> 'WAHHHHHHH'

What did I tell you fool <Scoops him up in my arms and kisses his tiny little bopped head>

And me?
BrainZilla: 'You talking to yourself again?'
Shhhhh <Punches self in head>
BrainZilla: 'Shall do'

Well I am looking forward to making new friends in the playground when I drop off BabyBoy4 for school. Bit worried I'm gonna get lost and take the wrong child to the wrong school.

Probably gonna forgot everything they need four million times in the first week. If I'm concentrating.

Hope work doesn't give me detention for being late.

(But it wasn’t my fault I’m late…

I had to drink all the wine last night…)

I am sure we’ll all be fine.

My thoughts are mostly going to be with Boy11 as he starts this whole new chapter. He is going to need the most support as school switches from learning with fun, to learning a lot.

But I'll be keeping an eye on BabyBoy4 and how he's doing, and whether he's happy in school. And Miss7 obvs.

Something tells me I'm going to be doing a lot listening when I get home each day.

I can't wait!

Good luck terrors. Team Parent (yay!) are right behind you!

X

Epilogue:

So is Boy11 old enough to look after the others yet?

Mrs. Amazing: 'Not really'

I was just thinking... If we left him with the others... we could... <Winks suggestively>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Wouldn't they hear us?'

What? From the pub? No <Is confused>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Oh right, and no we can't do that'

Shame...

... <Brain is working>...

HANG ON! What were you thinking we could do?

Mrs. Amazing: <Runs>

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...