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>


14 February 2016

The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Parents: Valentines After Kids

It's Valentines day, Team Parent (yay!) are busy tonight.

'Ready?'
Yes <Has kids ironing ready and set up>
<Opens Guinness>
<Pours wine>
[Six Nations Rugby match starts]

So here's a collection of tales from Valentine's past, demonstrating the romantic ease, joy, simplicity, and FUN children have brought to Valentine’s day for us.
Either directly or via the after effects.
Or simple “The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Parents: Valentines After Kids”.
The gits.


Giving Chocolates! (Surely a winner)

I got you these chocs! TADA! <Expects a snog>
'I'm on a diet...'
'I am still trying to lose baby weight... You know that...'
<Has sinking feeling>
'I've BEEN RUNNING!'
'You know much I hate running'
'And you bring me chocolates...' <Opens box>
'With some missing!!!' <Eats some>
[Leaves with five chocolates shoved up nose]

(The're safe, I've tested them for poison... 
'Who would poison them?'
<Does shifty eyes>)

Cooking a Special Meal at Home!

I've cooked!
I've got us a nice 'enough' steak (No money).
But cut around the fat and there's a nice steak in there somewhere
'Oooo you've really gone to town this year'
I even made my special steak sauce
<Shows mustard and mayo mix>
Booze Wine to get you drunk for your taste enjoyment
<Shows reasonably priced bottle>
'Ooooo'
And of course... chips, obv.
<Both pick up knives ready to eat>
'WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH' (* 'I don't know why, but tonight I must be held at all times!')
[We have romantic dinner for three]
I don't recall ordering the Gooseberry surprise...


Eating out!

Oh man... Grown up food!
'I know!'
Yes booze in there... <Directs waiter by pointing at glass>
'I would like booze in here' <Points>
'... and here' <Points at other wine glass>
Waiter: 'Ma'am?'
You heard the lady, both glasses… Twonk
Wanna share something to eat?
'Absolutely not, no'
Me neither. Let's get starters, main, pudding, lots of side dishes, everything!
We never get out together like this, let’s live!
'YEAH!'

[Later back home, both feeling crapola]
<Swigs Gaviscon and eats rennie like they were skittles>
I need water... Owwww…
<Eats skittles>
'I'm gonna roll on the floor for a bit to help my tummy...'
My head hurts so much...
'WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH' (* 'I don't know why, but tonight I must be held at all times whilst I shout!')
<Farts>

('This does not count as romantic...'
YES. It. Does. 
<Is covered in popcorn>)

Seeing a Romantic Film

Cinema monkey: 'That'll be a week salary'
<Looks at Mars bar, small tub of popcorn, and utter crap looking tea>
Are you joking?
<Gets nudged by Mrs. Amazing>
OK fine <Pulls out kidney and pays>
Cinema monkey: 'Do you need 3D glasses? They’re not free...'
Two. Please <Throws punches through his eyes>

[During the film]
'Where has their baby gone? Do they put it in a cupboard when people visit?'
Wasn't that baby just born, it's talking now...
'She's recovered from birth very, very, very quickly...'
The kid behind me keeps kicking my chair I am just going to kill him
'I often wake up with make-up on and hair done like that...'
And he's... well... there's no glory in his morning it seems...

[After the film at home]
<Yawns>
<Mega yawns>


No Frills. Just a Night Together

It's nice to have time just for us
'Totally. No kids'
No kids, we can just talk about whatever we like
'Oh yes, time to talk about other things, lovely'
Indeed
<Smiles>
<Smiles back>
...
'...'
Weather is not constant is it? Much like normal in the UK?
'Yes, it is isn't it'
...
'...'
Did you see Boy8 homework?
'Bloody brilliant wasn't it!'
I KNOW!
'Did you hear what Miss5 called me?'
Mumm-Ra?
'No. It’s best you don’t guess...'
Bertha?
Arwen?
<Gets a kiss>





10 February 2016

Flowers for Valentines...

<Whispers>
Pssst... In case you need to know or remember...
St. Valentines Day is this Sunday... and watch out not all garages are open 24 hours.

Anyhoo...

I buy flowers for Mrs. Amazing for Valentines day.
She likes them, I like giving them to her.
My fiscal side tells me it's an utter waste of money, and without doubt a poor investment.
However so is beer, and we all know where that ends up mere hours later.
And if you look at it like that, flowers versus beer, well then flowers last a lot longer, and are in a weird unbelievable way, a better investment.
Less fun though...

(For him, because he's worth it he likes being drunk...)

The lady in my local flower shop I know.
I have made a point of introducing myself. She knows my name. My first name Obi.
It benefits me greatly as she knows a few things about me.
She knows me and recognises me. She knows my 'budget' requirements. The style I want.
She knows that I have no idea of what any of the flowers are called, but I can describe the ones I want pretty well. She knows that I want to leave the shop holding flowers. Coming back later when I have a moment, is a not an option.
It helps.

For valentines last year I got Mrs. Amazing some lovely flowers, thanks to my lovely flower lady.
A nice bunch in Mrs. Amazing's colours and style. They were liked.
They were bloody awkward to walk home with, as I had a bike too, and could not ride.
But worth it.

I also got Miss5 some flowers too.
Not as many as I got Mrs. Amazing of course, that's a short cut to the sofa and no tea in the morning.
I got Miss5 a small bunch in her favourite colour. She only cared a bit.
But it doesn't matter. I thinks it is important Miss5 learns about gentlemen from her Dad. I have no hidden agenda. I just want her to stop talking love.
She'll remember those flowers in the future and her standards of men will be higher because of them.
Maybe. I hope.

I also got Boy8 a small bunch of flowers to give Mrs. Amazing.
I think it is important he learns how to be a gentleman and it's my job to teach him.
Even if it is through me handing him flowers, coaching him on what to say, and then pushing him in front of Mrs. Amazing, where he stumbles his lines and walks away confused and wiping kisses from his face.
He'll remember those flowers in the future when he wants to grab a girls attention.
And if I'm lucky (and him) it may stop him revving engines and doing power slides instead.

I also got a single red rose for BabyBoy1 to give Mrs. Amazing.
I thought it was a nice touch.
Sort of...
'Hey Mummy I love you'
'I've only been here a little'
'But already... I heart you'
'Have an overpriced spiky red flower to symbolise that'

(I shall name this a crapa-stink-spike bloom...)

A nice message I thought. Sweet.
Mrs. Amazing thought it was a bit puke inducing.
A year later I conclude she may well have been right.

I think Mrs. Amazing's point was: It is not mother's day. It's valentine's day.
So what the smeg was I doing? Despite my high intentions does Boy8 really want to be calling his Mum his valentine?
I think we all know what his answer may be...
Boy8: 'I like her, don't get me wrong. Lovely lady. Best Mum ever...'
'It's... just... You know... '
'There's this girl in year 5... and she's got R2-D2 hair bobbles in her hair and she can run really fast...'

He is only human.

(Just realised Miss5 absolutely needs more bows... for... er... medical reasons...)

Still I like getting Miss5 flowers.
I know that on one hand if Boy8 giving his Mum flowers on Valentines day seems a bit weird. Then equally me giving flowers to Miss5 is, at least flirting around, the same kind of weirdness.
But nobs to that. I think it's a nice thing to do for a little girl, and I shall continue.
Is that really so wrong? 
IS IT?
<Shakes flowers at you>