The Great Cot Escape...

We've had a good run.

BabyBoy2 has been brilliant at sleeping in his cot.

Mainly because Team Parent (yay!) are expert at ignoring and staying under the warm covers now. And because BabyBoy2 is brilliant at quietly sitting in his cot until someone comes to get him. Singing and playing. Like a little noisy ewok angel.

But some time over Christmas.

Team Parent (yay!) wrecked it. We upset the apple cart. We rocked the boat. We nudged the Jenga tower. We prodded the bear. We beat the Wookiee (giggles). We changed stuff.

And much eating all the chocolates in a box, when someone else is out, you can't undo it.

You can't. I've tried. It's gross.

(...OK! OK! Maybe chess was a bad idea grumpy... How about another game...

How about something less stressy... Risk? Monopoly?)

BabyBoy2 got a cot upgrade.

Well his third-hand cot got swapped for a slightly larger second-hand cot. But that's still up.

Team Parent (yay!) being the knackered sleep deprived asuste sharp individuals that we are. Noticed that BabyBoy2 was getting a bit big for his cot.

There were a few subtle clues that only his parents would notice. He was starting to sleep diagonally. He wasn't touching either end I hasten to add. And if we had removed the mountain of teddies from one end. He would have been fine for another few months.

But diagonal he was. He needed an upgrade.

Which is a bit sad.

As that's the end of that cot. The same cot Boy9 screamed and cried in and had us running to him for the early years. The same cot Miss6 would be laid down in so quiet and still, only to have her awake from farting as we left the room.

Weirdly it had wooden balls on the end they could play with. Noisy things too. Bacon knows why you'd design a cot to have toys built in. But hey they loved them. I'll might even miss the sound of them rattling about the cot.
I had made some 'permenant' fixes to it over the years. But it's function still worked. It kept children in it, and sometimes they slept

Thanks cot. Good work.

(<Plays 'I'm Still CotStanding' by Elton John>

<Is impressed it lasted through three of them>

<Go to eBay...>)

The upgrade.

Is a little scuffed. But that's fine. BabyBoy2 cares not.

And he's not going to be in a cot much longer anyway. He's nearly three.

Still. Going from cot to bed was a step Team Parent (yay!) we weren't for right now.

As once BabyBoy2 got into a bed. He would free to leave whenever he wished...

<Shudders>

BabyBoy2: 'Norning!'

Go away... It's ARGHO'CLOCK... <Checks R2-D2>... Urghhhh....

BabyBoy2: <Toddles off>

[Five minutes later]

BabyBoy2: 'Norning!'

Really... Go back to bed... Night time...

BabyBoy2: <Thinks>

BabyBoy2: <Climbs up on my chest. It is apparently trampoline time>

Anyhoo...

The decision was made.

The old cot was taken apart. New cot assembled. It went well. Very little swearing from me.

And BabyBoy2 helped me as much as he could...

<Is holding the entire cot frame in hands precariously>

Dude? Can you push that bolt in please <Points very clearly, with elbow>

BabyBoy2: 'Wot?' <Is confused>

Pardon. There <Points with foot> That one!

BabyBoy2: <Jabs the bolt and knocks it out of it's hole>

<Grumbles>

[Resets everything]

<Is again holding the entire cot frame in hands precariously, has learnt nothing>

Dude! Push that bolt through so I can get this nut on it... Please!

BabyBoy2: <Really thinks>

Go on!!! <Arms are breaking>

BabyBoy2: <Starts pushing the bolt!>

Yes mate!

BabyBoy2: <Changes mind, and puts the bold back where it was>

BabyBoy2: <Runs>

Fine! I'll do it myself <Is stretching weirdly> Near... ly... there...

[Almighty crashing owy noise]

Bums... <Giggles>

BabyBoy2 was very proud of his new cot.

He got a proper sized duvet. And he kept telling everyone about his new cot.

BabyBoy2: 'Daddy made it me!' <Beaming>

'Made' is a bit of a stretch. But it's nice to be noticed when I do some handy man person work.

And it's always lovely to have my little dude happy with me.

BabyBoy2: <Hugs my leg thank you>

But the new cot has one big problem.

BabyBoy2 has already worked out how to escape from it.

He pulls his rocking chair up close. And then well... I'm guessing as I've never seen him do it. We assume he pulls himself up using the rocking chair and then that becomes his steps ack down.

Bit of a problem.

(Hey… What’s this pinned paper to the bottom of your cot?

BabyBoy2: <Grabs it and eats it>

That… that was weird… But not totally out of character…

<Skips off to find chocolate>)

BabyBoy2's escaping history so far...

Escape 1:

I've already told this tale (see here). It was a surprise. It was hella cute.

It was annoying, I never got back to sleep and was knackered all week, bloody early.

Escape 2:

After BabyBoy2 had his normal three book. Song sang (me to him). Quick round of find the moon on the ceiling. Pin him Tuck in. Warmed teddy to hug. Good night wished. All lights off and door shut.

I found him an hour later.

Light on. Hidden. And giggling a lot under his bed.

(The rocking chair was removed that night) (he was un-cool about it, angry WAHH etc.).

Escape 3:

5am.

BabyBoy2: 'Norning!' <Has a book>

<Eyes still shut> Go back to bed...

BabyBoy2: <Runs off>

BabyBoy2: <Is playing very loudly>

Mrs. Amazing: 'He's going to wake the others!'

<BabyBoy2 and Boy9 appear>

<Boy9 is mostly asleep and has no idea what is going, he has just followed BabyBoy2>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Go back to bed Boy9' <Boy9 stumbles off to bed again>

Mrs. Amazing: 'BabyBoy2 it is the middle of the night, don't wake anyone up again'

BabyBoy2: <Leaves, feet thudding, dragging with his book> 'Soweee Mummy'

[Team Parent (yay!) have heated debate about who should get up and convince BabyBoy2 is it sleep time]

[A decision is reached]

Owww! Ow! <Rubs ribs> I'm going...

<Falls asleep again> ...Zzz...

Argh! <Rubs different rib> I'm up!

<Dons dressing gown>

<Grumbles>

BabyBoy2 has gone back to his room.

He’s in his cot again. He had climbed back in. <Give you a look>

Hella cute.

My noisy little dude is sat playing with his cars in bed. How on earth do I tell him to go back to sleep? He's not going to listen. Or want to. And I don't want to tell him either.

BabyBoy2 has worked really hard escaping. He should be being rewarded.

Still…. It's is 5am. Not my favourite time of day. Don't want this to become a habit.

And he very well may wake the kraken Miss6.

She Disco'ed hard yesterday. Nothing wears my kids out than a two hour, after school, school PTA fundraising disco.

It's like kryptonite to them.

(What do you mean I can’t use my own custom made tiles in Scrabble?

Brother: <Points at line one> ‘There… we added it last time you tried this…’

<Reads> Oh… fine… I’ll just put VZZZBX

Brother: <Points at line two>

<Points at line three> Unless it is a quote from a legendary telly show…

<Smugly places tiles, scores fourteen billion>)

I don't know what to do with BabyBoy2.

I can't make him stay put. And he's not really being naughty. Just should be asleep and quieter.

I pass a few books into his cot, and ask him to keep the noise down.

Which he does and I slink back into bed.

Five minutes later.

BabyBoy2: 'NeeeeeNaaaaaaaaa! Brooooom! Eeeee! AHOY MATEY!'

BabyBoy2: 'When he hears his fire alarm...'

Oh smeg it.

I grab BabyBoy2 on my way downstairs to play.

I plan to lay down in front of the telly. Stick 'aw 'atrol on for him.

But as we get to the telly he passes without a glance. And I realise the telly was only for me.

He cares not.

BabyBoy2 is heading to the trains and cars. Which I suddenly remember are way more fun anyway.

I stroke the We ignore the telly. I flick on the kettle. I need tea. Lots.

And we get the trains out and start creating. Building track. Running down elephants/lions/badgers with steam engines. We have a brilliant morning.

Lots of giggling and fun.

Miss6 arrives at 6am (thirty mins early).

She steals my playing buddy and the two of the romp off into their own little world. Building forts on the sofa. Which is fine really. <Weeps> I love how well they get on.

I make another round of tea and take one up to Mrs. Amazing.

Just think. All that fun me and BabyBoy2 had with the trains, I nearly traded that for watching a ‘Paw Partol’ we have already seen.

I nearly missed out on a few hours play with BabyBoy2.
Just us two. And he frikkin' rocks.

And what for? A bit of much needed sanity creating sleep.

Brainzilla: <Slaps me with my own hand>
Brainzilla: ‘Come on man! Cha! … Priorities!’
Yeah... <Rubs face> Good point...
<Heads off to the chocolate cupboard>

X

The Immovable Object (me) and the Unstoppable Emotional Force (Boy9)...

Mornings.

They're fun aren't they?

Oh what fun we have some mornings. Giggles, laughs, golden family moments.

Yeah sometimes... not this morning though <Rolls eyes>

This morning.

I find myself hitting the coats in the porch. Ten minutes before I leave for work.

It's my new exercise routine, I call it coatercieFURY. I was wound up.

I am prone to getting wound up. I know.

Which is why I was de-stressing on the coats.

Don't worry. I wasn't flailing my arms about going nuts. It wasn't that bad.

But bad enough that I took, a slightly comical, moment to myself to show a few coats who's boss.

Take that winter coat! <Hits coat> Ha ha!

<Bobs and weaves> And this summer jacket! <Hits coat>

Zing! YEAH! <Hits different coat>

And take THIS favourite hat! Wallop!!! <Flattens own hat>

Shiiiit Oh... Smeg...

<Coat rack falls off wall and lands on me>

Ow...

<Mrs. Amazing's scarf box falls on me and I am never found again>

The cause of my woundedupness stress was Boy9.

Boy9 was being an utter, utter smegger tired out. He had competed in an athletic thingy at school the day before and was exhausted (not sports day, something else).

I gather there was a lot of hanging about in the sun (yes UK sun. It's real), twenty minutes of actual competing. Then more hanging about in the sun.

All perfect exhausting ingredients for a nine year old.

Still he had fun.

He came home exhausted.

Team Parents (yay!) differed on how best to tackle the tired out Boy9 before he went to bed.

Mrs. Amazing's plan: was to sit him in front of some cartoons, feed him, administer hot chocolate, and generally pamper and look after him like only a mother can.

My plan: was to go to the park and kick an enormous ball about with him for ten minutes. Because that’s a laugh.

I am Not sure my plan which wasn't the most sensible.

Knowing how a Team Parents (yay!) vote was likely to go. Me and Boy9 snuck headed out.
Enormous football ready. BOINGGGGG!

A right laugh and it helped us bond a bit. Which is always handy as that helps me and Boy9 communicate better.

We fight less.

#FamouseLastWords #FamouseRatherThenFamous #NotATpyo #ThatWasATypo

(Oy! You bloody giant kids!!! I just re-turreted that!!!)

Boy9 was given a nice hot bath.

I read him some How to Train Your Dragon (book 11). It's seriously awesome.

And then encouraged him to sleep. <Shakes fist> He even said how tired he felt.

Poor love.

Throughout the night he only appeared twice.

First time he claimed he ‘needed’ to speak to Mrs. Amazing. As he instantly realised my reaction to him being up wasn’t a happy one. So Mrs. Amazing trotted him back to bed and he told her whatever it was that he needed to tell her. I am pretty sure was 'I am annoying Daddy by talking to you'.

Second time he appeared looking lost and mostly asleep. Easily hugged and put back to bed.

Nice.

Then the next morning something miraculous happened.

Boy9 slept in.

<Faints> <Is really just sleeping on the floor>

The first little face we see next morning.

Peering at Team Parents (yay!) is Miss5’s. And whilst I say Team Parents (yay!). Miss5 was at Mrs. Amazing's side of the bed. As Miss5 isn't always silly.

One side of the bed can be woken by breathing softly. Or by a slight fluctuation in your aura. Or a butterfly fart.

The other side of the bed requires cake a firm diving on, shouting at, eyelid lifting, lots of tea, and there's always a chance you may hear words you've never heard before and be growled at.

All of Team Parent (yay!) would rather not get up.
Mrs. Amazing lays out her cards regarding who should interact with Miss5 this morning.
Mrs. Amazing: 'A Royal flush and two spare aces'

Mrs. Amazing: <To me> ‘I got up with BOTH of them last night. I'm knackered’

Urghhhh (* 'Oh my poor love. I feel and acknowledge your pain and knackeredness. Cuppa?')

Mrs. Amazing: <To me, but at Miss5> ‘Go see Daddy this morning’

Miss5: <Tiny feet sounds>

Oooof <Gets jumped on>

I collect BabyBoy2 from his room too.

He’s very cute. He’s dead happy it's morning. Yet another brilliant day in his life.

What a happy little fella he is…

<Enters BabyBoy2's room>

BabyBoy2: 'DADDY!'

Dude!

BabyBoy2: <Bounces around cot for a bit> ‘Poo!’ <Points at nappy>

Uh-huh. Yep. On it

We three sneak downstairs and watch cartoons.

Well I sneak. Miss5 seems to make more noise when trying to be quiet.

And BabyBoy2 shouts for Boy9 a few times. Next to his bedroom door.

But luckily Boy9 doesn’t wake.

Phew.

Mrs. Amazing joins us a bit later after checking her Batmessages.

And a lovely breakfast is had by all. In fact we are nearly finished when in slowly floats Boy9.

Still looking knackered. But happy.

Boy9 has managed to slept in for one whole hour.

A P.B..

If only it wasn't a school day.

<Lets that one just sink in…>

Boy9 floats and then sits.

Away from the table with his breakfast on, but hey! That's fine.

The table with his breakfast on would be a better choice in my opinion.

We're a bit behind time now for school. But hey! Boy9 seems in a good mood. He's talking without spitting fire. Winner.

So I head upstairs to do...  well... early morning man stuff.

<Plays on phone>

I come back lighter and am passed by Miss5 and Mrs. Amazing leaving for upstairs.

Mrs. Amazing: 'We're leaving... He's turned...'

Mrs. Amazing: <Passes me the baton>
I don't want it

(Ok pass me the baton… <Bzmmmm> My hand!!!.... Cool baton btw...)

I walk into the kitchen to find Boy9 has been replaced with the Anti-Nice.

A sort of demonic entity that cannot be nice not matter what is going on.

So rather than engage the Anti-Nice. I do what I do best. I put on excellent music.
Loud. And dance like I've got wings on my feet enjoy it.

Boy9 is plonked in front of his cereal. I tidy the kitchen. He eats. Everyone does their jobs. No communication is needed.

I get to rock out. Lovely.

Boy9 grumps his way through the rest of his morning jobs.

It takes a lot of coaching, persuading and nagging.

Get dressed = Grump

Use bathroom = Grump. Grump

ACTUALLY use the facilities in the bathroom to become cleaner = BIG Grump. You're so mean. Argghgh! Grump

Get your bag = Grump

Stop annoying, looking or being too close to your sister = Grump

Stop annoying your mother = Grump

It’s after this round of Anti-Nice behviour.

That Mrs. Amazing turns to me and elects me Chief ‘Suntan Lotion Putter Onner’.

The speech that goes with it is beautiful....

Mrs. Amazing: 'He needs suntan lotion. You do it'

Mrs. Amazing: 'I can't face arguing with him anymore this morning'

I would like to resign my post immediately and leave for work

OK... Boy9 where are you?

Boy9: <Does far-off grump>

Boy9 doesn’t like applying suntan lotion.

So he reacts badly when I ask him nicely to put it on. We discuss what has to happen.

Boy9 storms off to his room and slams his door. I give him five minutes to calm down.

It does not work, he needed a year.

Boy9 is furious and in tears.
He is exhausted and has decided he RE-EALL-Y doesn't want to put on suntan lotion.

My heart goes out to the little ball of anger and emotion. If I could, I would whisk this little boy up in my arms and nothing would ever hurt him again. And he wouldn’t have to go outside and need suntan lotion. But that’s stupid thinking. He has to.

My heart comes back from the little ball of anger and emotion and it hardens and calms.
As it’s bored of his wailing and whining.

I try for the next ten minutes to talk him round.

It is very un-fun and he is rude, mean and quite urghh to me.

I do nearly manage to convince him at one point. But it backfires only makes him crosser.

However...

+1000 Dad points: I did manage to remain calm. YAY!

+10 Dad points: I did not shout. yay!

I was using my FIRM voice though.

The one that can stop all children in hearing range in their tracks.
Firm. Slightly loud. In control.

But defo not shouty.

Time was getting very short.

We would all be late for school and work. Boy9 REALLY needed to get on with this.

I change from Captain Discussion and Reasoning into Thor's hammer THE IMMOVABLE OBJECT and lay down the law. Boy9 adopts the role of UNSTOPPABLE emotional FORCE.

I use all my years of... er… stuff… and give him just one choice.

My choice.

(Don't judge... I'm still carrying a little Easter, post-Easter, general life, weight...)

<Soft voice> I am going to count to five <Shows fingers on hand>

Then I am going shove the bottle up your nose put the suntan lotion on for you

Boy9: 'But!'

No. <Interrupts> No more negotiations, no more discussion, no more whining

When I get to five… <Gives Boy9 a 'I bloody mean it' look>

Boy9: 'WAHHHHHHH! You're so MEAN!!!'

One...

Boy9: 'ARRHHGGHGHGG! I DON'T WANT TOOO!!! NOOO'

Two...

Boy9: 'I DON'T WANT IT NO NO NO!'

Thr...

Boy9 put the suntan lotion on.

Thank bacon. He was now ready to face the merciless British sun.

Obviously Boy9 was now furious with me.

Pride and all that. How very dare I care about his skin health and well being. No eye contact, doesn’t really talk to me. It's about this time that I go into the porch and have my moment with the coats.

I do feel better after.

Me and Miss5 say our goodbyes and are just walking off to Miss5's school.

When Boy9 runs after us. Shouting Daddy…

‘Sup?

He rushes up to me and gives me a big hug and kiss.

And says he's sorry.

Not for anything particular, but we both know what he is talking about.

I really felt he meant it too or he's playing me like a kipper. And I checked it wasn't due to a Mrs. Amazing prompt either.

My wound up heart melts. And he becomes my big-little dude again.

Immovable object? Ha! More like moon putty.

X

Epilogue:
Look! <Is excited> I got a sticker at work!

Mrs. Amazing: 'What's it say?'

I worked hard today!

Mrs. Amazing: 'Did you steal it?'

HOW VERY DARE YOU! <Huffs about>

I am so outraged I am going to take this chocolate... <Raids chocolate cupboard>

And this... <Raids chocolate cupboard again>

And this cake <Takes cake> and go into the other room and watch cartoons...

<Leaves with dignity>

<Sneaks back into to get my cuppa>

(<Is wistful> One day I'll get one... One day...

Mrs. Amazing: 'I'm sure you will... I just know it' <Is lying>)