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 little dude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label little dude. Show all posts

12 August 2018

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.



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...


24 April 2018

He Lasted Half A Day...

With the Easter break over.
Boy10 and Miss7 were both back to school.
BabyBoy3 was heading back to nursery.
And Mrs. Amazing was back to work.
Everyone reacts to going back  post holidays in different ways...

BabyBoy3: 'Don't want to go! Stay home and play' <Cute stampy feet>
I hear you mate, and I don't blame ya... still nursery you gotta go
BabyBoy3: '’K' <Runs off>
Miss7? You ready yet?
Miss7: 'YES! Lets go! I can't wait! School-school lovely school!'
Mrs. Amazing you ready?
Mrs. Amazing: 'Adult conversations, hot drinks, toilet freedom... '
Mrs. Amazing: <Shudders with happiness> 'Bliss!'
Mrs. Amazing: 'I'm gonna go early! WORK!' <Punches the air>
Boy10? Where are you?
Boy10: 'I'm not going!'
Yes you are!
Boy10: 'No I'm not, I'm sick... My head hurts... That holiday didn't really take... please don't make me go back...' <Begs>
... <Sympathetically leans down close to him> You've got to...
Boy10: <Wipes away tear>
It's not me, it's the government and all the police people, you've got to go...
Boy10: 'I don't care if I go to jail!'
Really? There's no YouTube in prison...
[Super fast dressing from Boy10]
Boy10: 'Ready!'
Right! Let's go get this world! Run you fools!
[All run off into the sunrise]
[Credits roll, theme tune of Plantary [Go!] by My Chemical Romance plays]

(Boy10: ‘Where’d you get the hats from Dad?’
...Dressing up box…
Mrs. Amazing: ‘And the FIVE horses?’
Er… Sorry… Can’t hear you… <Rides off>)

Half a day BabyBoy3 lasted.
Poor little sausage. He had been fine in the morning.
Me and Miss7 and BabyBoy3 had headed out on scooters to nursery and dropped him off very happy.
He was a bit sad to say goodbye to Miss7 this morning. Knowing full well that she was off to school without him. And I was soon to leave for work. Leaving BabyBoy3 on his own at nursery.
Which may not sound too heavy. But after fourteen days in a row of all of us being there to play with BabyBoy3 every morning, it’s gonna be a shock to his little system. Fourteen days is still a fair chunk of his life.
OK fine. Not me being there to play all day. I still had to head off to work. I just guest starred every morning and evening .
But Miss7 and Boy10 (when not glued to the computer) were there with nothing to do but play...

Miss: 'Let's build a trap'
BabyBoy3: 'YES'
Miss7: 'We'll hang this on the door, balance this against the door as well'
BabyBoy3: <Gets teddies to blockage door with too>
Miss7: 'Shut all the doors so it's dark'
[It is now dark next to their trap]
[Flushing sound]
Miss7: 'Quick hide'
<Walks out of the toilet into the darkness, not really awake yet>
What? ARGHGGH! <Falls over, tangled in blankets, gets hit by pegs flying off blankets>
<Collapses in a heap>
Miss7 & BabyBoy3: <High five, then run>

I was home at lunch time.
To see BabyBoy3 as he only does a half day at nursery, and me Mum who looks after him for the afternoon.
I got the classic walking in the door shush. Followed by a point and me realising BabyBoy3 has crashed out on the sofa. We leave the room to chat.
Turns out BabyBoy3 didn't even want to scoot back, poor Mum had to carry the scooter. And guide a reluctant-to-walk BabyBoy3 home.
And then once home there was no demand for biscuits, or jigsaw puzzles, just BabyBoy3 lying down.
To sleep.

I didn't really think much of it to be honest.
Just thought his half day back had been very tiring. He's quite a run-about-and-shout-a-lot kind of boy. He plays hard.
So him grabbing a quick sleep didn't seem that bad.
But I checked his temperature and before I left he stirred enough to be given Calpol.
And again for some reason I didn't really think much of it.

I suppose.
It's because they are so big now. There are not babies, and BabyBoy3 acts grown up when he is with Boy10 and Miss7.
And they are both pretty sturdy now. Well Miss7 isn't she's very reminiscent of thin sticks to be honest. And Boy10 limbs seem to be borrowed from a spider.
But health wise they are strong and healthy. Colds come and go. I suppose I had just gotten used to how quick and well they recover.
Kind of forgot BabyBoy3 is only three.

Work plodged by (yes plodged).
And I headed home. Finding Boy10 on the computer as I come through the door. Miss7 watching cartoons and playing on a handheld computer at the same time.
Mrs. Amazing and BabyBoy3 strangely absent. In that I can neither see them nor hear them.
And it's the hearing them that is the most telling. If he's in the bath there is noise. Playing noise. Something.
But the house is eerily quiet.

Hugs and kisses to the big two.
And I head off to find Mrs. Amazing. Expecting to find BabyBoy3 hiding somewhere or playing in his room.
I find them both in Team Parent (yay!)'s bedroom. The curtains drawn.
Mrs. Amazing is reading a book. Children's cartoons are on the tele. And right in the middle of the bed, wrapped up like a little parcel is BabyBoy3.
Poorly. He'd been sick.

Mrs. Amazing shushes me.
I#d like to point out it's not as though I shout everywhere I go. Stomping about. But fair play BabyBoy3 is only barely asleep.
I sit next to them both and talk quietly to find out what has been going on.
It seems after I left for work. BabyBoy3 went down hill. Got hotter and hotter. Eventually got too hot and puked on the sofa downstairs. Lovely. Poor Mum.
Mrs. Amazing had returned from work and scooped him up in her arms. Dressed him in light weight jammies and here they had been since.
BabyBoy3 woke and turned his head to see me.
As despite my very quiet shushed voice, it's the first man's voice (mine) he has heard all day. True story.
His little face lights up and he smiles at me.

(How can someone so small hog so much of a double bed…)

Oh my heart.
There I was with loads in my head. Some work stuff still kicking about. Plans for the evening. Thoughts of what to have for dinner. I'm heading out to ninja training classes later and need to get ready, thoughts.
But it's like my head has slammed into a brick wall and everything else I was thinking about pops out of my ears.
[Pop]
Like that.
As I look at my little boy, all tiny and vulnerable and stuff. Still and quiet, which doesn't happen often. Laid in bed trying to watch cartoons but falling asleep a bit instead.
My heart reaches out to him and I just stop. I stop me moving. Stop all my thoughts and just lie down next to him.
I don't even go and make a cuppa.

A few minutes later.
Mrs. Amazing realises her relief is here and heads down to chivy the others into bed.
I don't move. I just lay next to BabyBoy3 and stroke his little head a bit.
Not as much as Mrs. Amazing would, I'm not that squishy. Instead I lay closer to him so we are touching a little bit. BabyBoy3 notices and wriggles himself closer to me.
I am really uncomfortable. My back is screaming at me. But hellfire! It's worth it. I am staying put.
BabyBoy3 moves his hand so it is in mine.
I become gushy water and splash everywhere like a bath being emptied from a building top. Emotionally I wasn't expecting this. I had been at work not long ago, where they're not so keen on people lying down and showing affection. The weirdos.
This is a shock to my system.

But for BabyBoy3.
His Dad has stopped and is now laid out on the bed with him. Keeping him company whilst he feels rubbish.
I am feeling a bit guilty because I am not doing the stuff I normally do.
But right now I really want to be with him so he knows everything is alright. And I am there.
BabyBoy3 rolls over and smiles at me.
Then he wriggles himself even closer to me. So that his forehead is touching mine. Personal space be damned.
And he finally falls asleep.

It's been a long time.
Since I've had one these amazing moments with my children. Where my heart feels like it might burst out of my chest. In a good way, loads of love, kinda way. We are always so busy doing stuff, having fun, rushing about. It's rare to just stop like this.
But for those twenty minutes before I've gotta go out. I stop my world for him, stop everything, and I just lay next to BabyBoy3 and give him all my attention whilst he sleeps.
And he lets me.

I notice his hands.
They’re hella tiny. They're still really very tiny still. His presence in my life is so big, so loud and all consuming. It forgot how little he is. He's only three.
There's things in the freezer older than he is.
Compared to me, BabyBoy3 is as fragile as a Miss7 LEGO creation. It's amazing he doesn't get sick more often, or break bits of himself every moment of the day. But he doesn't.
Somehow he seems to bounce off stuff he walks into. He picks himself up after every fall. Wipes off snot and tears in seconds and carries on.
Every illness burns through his little veins like fire, until it's gone, and he's back on his feet. Running about the place.
BabyBoy3 is incredible (they all are).

Team Parent (yay!)'s have a broken night.
First by a BabyBoy3 shouting for Mrs. Amazing that he wants water. Which I give him.
And second by BabyBoy3 shouting for me. As he's confused and has drunk all the water far too quickly and has been sick again. Mrs. Amazing take BabyBoy3 off to warm him and calm him. And I set up a small mattress next to our bed for him sleep on and he sleeps in with us.
And we all get through the night together.

(‘’Underbird 2 also doubles as something to nibble on...)

At 5am Mrs. Amazing wakes me.
For hand over. And I take a very happy, wide awake, and feeling better (yay!) BabyBoy3 downstairs to watch some cartoons. ''Underbirds Are Go’ his current favourite, which I like too. Until it's not stupid O'clock in the morning.
Illness gone. BabyBoy3 fixed. All breath again.
I stay at home with BabyBoy3 for the morning, whilst Mrs. Amazing works. Then we swap and it's a very tired me (really? Third person on your own blog?) that finally sits down at my desk for work.

WorkMate: 'Cup of tea?'
Four please...
WorkMate: 'Four what?'
Four cups of tea please...
WorkMate: <Questioning look>
I am going to shotgun the first two, enjoy the third, and then moan a bit that the forth one has gone cold...
WorkMate: 'Long night?'
Zzz
WorkMate: <Hangs a do not disturb sign on my head>
WorkMate: <Changes computer desktop to a picture of Justin Bieber to annoy me>

I know that when I am old and greyer.
When my life is coming to end, as it must despite all my plans. There will be many amazing memories to look back on.
Very near the top will be that memory of BabyBoy3 wriggling closer to me, to rest his forehead on mine, before he fell asleep.
That was pretty sweet.
<Itches eyes as they appear to be malfunctioning>
<Farts to enhance the mood>
<Has regrets>
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