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

Is Your Sun Up? (Gro-Clock)...

We've let it slip again.

Which is annoying as Team Parent (yay!) worked really hard on this last time.

It took a lot getting up really early, but we persevered and got the rewards.

BabyBoy3 was managing to sleep until it was wake up time.

Except we've now let it slip.

I love my children.

They are fab. I just wish they would sleep when they are meant to. That would be really good. Then Team Parent (yay!) would get more sleep. And life would be better for all. It's a win win.

It's just hard to make them see that way...

[ARHG O'clock in the morning]

BabyBoy3 go back to bed

BabyBoy3: 'No!'

<Stern voice> It's very early in the morning go back to bed

BabyBoy3: 'No!' <Gets back into bed anyway>

BabyBoy3: <Lies the wrong way up in bed, kicks off all the sheets>

Close enough... Night...

<BranchesLeaves>

(BabyBoy3: <From his room> ‘YAY MORNING!’

TeamParent: <In bed, hiding> ‘BOO MORNING!’)

We have one of those clocks.

A time machine. A Gro-Clock. We had one for Boy10 and Miss7, and now BabyBoy3 has one.

All of them rebelled against it. Fight the power!

The idea is simple. You set the time you want the 'Sun' on the screen to come up. And when that time comes up, the screen changes from a blue sleepy night time picture, to a happy sun picture. There's even an adult lock on it.

So no little hands can alter it.

Boy10 altered it.

He hacked it (as he would say). He jabbed buttons until the sun came up. So we never bothered with the adult mode again. I say Boy10, but he was Boy3 back then.

There was a little while where the clock worked and Boy3 stayed asleep. But I am pretty sure that wasn't for very long and eventually we gave up with the Gro-Clock with Boy3.

There was a few times when we found it unplugged and Boy3 stood there telling us it went off all on it's own, but he did see the sun come up honest guv', just before it went off.

Other times Boy3 would come running in and announce that the sun had come up, only for us to check our clocks and find out the horrible truth.

But on the whole the clock worked well enough that we used it again.

For Miss7 - Who was at that time Miss3.

Miss3 reacted differently to the Gro-Clock.

Most of the time she got it. Most of the time. We still had the same discussions about whether or not the sun had come up with her. She would sit and watch the stars go out until morning. One an hour. <Gives you a look>

The main difference between Miss3 and Boy3's approach to the Gro-Clock. Was anger.

Miss3 broke it...

What on earth was that noise? <Goes to see Miss3

Miss3: <Sat in corner looking furious>

What's this cable?

Miss3: <Huffing sounds>

This is the Gro-Clock cable, where's the...  clock? <Fears the worst>

Miss3: <Points into the hallway>

Oh no... <Checks for pulse> <Attaches power cable>

... I'm afraid it's gone...

Miss3: <Whispers> 'Good'

(Mrs. Amazing: ‘What’s that?’

The Bat-Clock…

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Oh….’

Mrs. Amazing: ‘...I thought it would have been bigger.’

<Lots of giggling>)

I probably could have fixed the clock.

I'm a believer. And a fan of taking stuff apart and jabbing it with a screwdriver until it works or not. But considering Miss3 had broken one Gro-Clock Team Parent (yay!) were not about to throw more money at Miss3. For her to literally throw about.

We're not silly all the time.

So BabyBoy3 does not have the family Gro-Clock.

Passed down through the generations. Both of them. That clock died. From clocktracide.

BabyBoy3 got a brand new one. Which I suppose goes to show just how much we thought the Gro-Clock did work. Despite all I am saying, it still did a lot of good stuff.

It's main bonus was being able to discuss the time with tiny people very early in the morning in a very black and white way...

Is your sun up?

BabyBoy3: 'Er....'

Simple question, yes or no?

BabyBoy3: 'Um....'

That's a no then. Back to bed!

Now try that without the Gro-Clock and it's polarising powers on whether or not it is time to get up...

Do you know what the time is?

BabyBoy3: 'No'

It's far too early, look...

BabyBoy3: 'I literally have no idea what I am looking at, I can't even read my name yet. What the hell are those little lines? …'

It says it's far too early, go back to bed...

BabyBoy3: 'Are you sure you're reading it right? It's not'

Yes I am and it is

BabyBoy3: <Points at the window>

Yes I know the real sun is up and beaming in the window... But it's very early morning and we need you to go back to sleep

BabyBoy3: <Opens curtain> 'Oh father, but look it's a glorious day already! UP! UP! Come and share this day with me! ...'

Go back to bed... Zzz

<Fake sleeps and hopes BabyBoy3 goes round to see Mrs. Amazing>

See! Quite a difference.

The Gro-Clock provides a very simple way to not get involved in basically what is a conceptual relative time conversation first thing in the morning before you've even had your first cuppa.

There's some merit in things.

Still results may vary and all that.

As the two bugs have shown. And of course BabyBoy3 has his own interpretation of the Gro-Clock and its effect on him. BabyBoy3's take on it is that he ignores it.

He knows the rules. Don't come and see us until your sun comes up. So he doesn't.

But he does get up. Starts playing with his toys. Noisily. Shouting at stuff as only three year olds do. We hear the toilet door opening and closing a million times. A light from his bedroom going on and off. He’s no ninja yet. And BabyBoy3 is up and his day has started.

Far too early.

And because he does know the rules.

But only wants to do his interpretation of them. BabyBoy3 waits until the sun on his clock does come up. Which is still far too early in my book, but it's the time we set.

BabyBoy3 waits for the sun and then comes running into us.

Like a HERD OF FLAT FOOTED GIANTS TRYING TO MAKE AS MUCH NOISE AS POSSIBLE.

Miss7 in tow. Utterly silent...

BabyBoy3: 'MY SUN'S UP!!! YAYYYY!!!'

Miss7: ‘Mummymyclocksaysit’stimetogetup.Whyarn’tyougettingup?’

<Is hiding under covers><Where it's warm>

What choice do we have?

None. Team Parent (yay!) are bound by our own rules. We have to get up and start the day. We can't tell the kids to stay in bed until X-o’clock and then change it. Why would BabyBoy3 every care about his sun if we don't follow it ourselves.

Sadly.

So back to us letting it slip.

We have allowed BabyBoy3 just to get up when he feels. Mainly so we can sleep.

But that’s backfired as BabyBoy3 isn’t getting enough sleep now. And is whiny all day.

Which is exhausting, better we have less sleep than him.

So now we've got to train BabyBoy3 to stay in bed and sleep again. Until his sun is up.

Team Parent (yay!) know what we have to do. It's pretty simple. We just don't want to do it.

We will though.

We were on it this morning.

Which is why if you see either of us, we looked extra tired. Not tired. Extra tired.

A whole hour before sun up time. BabyBoy3 was up.

And Team Parent (yay!) being the good team we are tried to out pretend each other being asleep, we shared the early morning pain.

Of putting a very sweetly apologetic BabyBoy3 back to bed, and then tucking him in.

Kissing him good night. Again. Turning off his light and pointing at the Gro-Clock.

And telling him to stay in bed until your sun comes up.

Should only take a week or so to change his habits.

And considering how many years I've got by on this sleep.

I doubt the decrease in sleep will have any affect on me at all...

[Piers Morgan is talking on the radio]

<Listens, doesn't smash the radio to bits and burn the tainted circuits, just listens>

Hmmmmm... You know this Morgan twat fella is actually an utter twat quite interesting and worse than everything soulless and evil in the universe insightful...

Mrs. Amazing: <Dials 999>

X

(HEY! Does my butt really look that big? Hell yeah!

<Swaggers off>)