Rage Against the Swimming Costume...

Poor Miss6.

I do feel sorry for her.

It’s a hard life being a daughter to a Dad that takes her out and does stuff with her.

No. It’s not the embarrassment factor. Although I am sure that will kick in one day, but it is not this day.

It’s not that I am a little less tolerant of her endless talking as Mrs. Amazing...

Here… I'll give you this fiver to shush for a few five minutes... Deal?

Miss6: <Takes money>

... <Is confident I will get my money back> Five whole minutes...

Miss6: <Nods>

[Twenty, maybe thirty seconds pass]]

Miss6: <Looks like she is about to burst>

Miss6: <Starts pointing at stuff and miming>

I've no idea what you are saying? There's aliens on that tree and they are yodelling?

Miss6: <Explodes> <There's a lot of talking very quickly>

Miss6: <Passes money back>

Thank you... a P.B. by the way... twenty nine seconds...

Miss6: 'Well I think it would have gone better if...'

<Put brain into idle for a while> <Turns on auto-nod>

Miss6: '... then you started going on about yodellin...'

Nope.

Miss6’s main problem about being out with me is that I am not female.

As it means:

a) She has to go to toilet in the men's.

Right. Just keep your eyes on the floor and touch nothing

NOTHING. This is the men's. It's gross

Miss6: 'It's smells yukky'

Yep. Just stand there and don't move...

Actually put this blindfold on...

And these headphones…

In fact... <Casts stasis spell>

b) My practical knowledge of wearing women's clothing, and even more so little girls clothes, is low. Not none. But low.

(Awesome… But which would Barbara Gordon use?)

We were at the swimming pool.

Me and Miss6 go swimming once a week. It's one of my favourite things to do.

Teaching Miss6 to swim is a real honour. We've currently working on our 20m badge. She's doing great. I'm a very proud Dad.

And swimming is right fun anyway.

But it seems loads can go wrong (See BabyBoy2 and the nappy incident)...

We (I) pay.

We go in. Get changed. And head to the lockers...

[Me and Miss6, dry, putting stuff in locker]

[Locker jams my quid (a £1 coin) in it]

Stupid locker! <Quietly swears at locker and make comments about it's mother being a car compactor of poor compression quality>

<Tries to force coin with finger>

<Coin gets REALLY stuck>

SIGH <Sighs the sigh of a man that doesn't want to get dressed again and go to get another quid>

...

Miss6: 'What are we going to do?'

<Rifles through the bag with all our stuff in> <Shotguns Gets pocket knife out>

<Convinces quid to work> Tada!

Miss6: <Is unimpressed>

<Ignores Miss6 and smugly puts everything in and locks it>

<Worries I may never get my quid back>

Miss6: 'Er... The water bottle' <That is in Miss6's hands>

<Internal swearing>

<Unlocks the locker and repeats process>

<Is sure we won't get our quid back now>

<Is also a bit worried the locker may not open at all now>

Then it's wee time.

Miss6 needs to go. So do I. We both go into the men's.

This used to be simple. With Miss5 we would both go into a cubicle. I'd help Miss5 if she needed it. And ensure she had a clean enough environment. Then we'd swap places. Both jobs done.

But Miss6 is bigger and more grown up and independent. And as she doesn't need my help now. I feel a bit weird being in a cubicle with her.

As I’ve nothing to do.

So there are two choices.

a) Let Miss6 lock herself in and pray that she can open it later.

Very risky in men's toilets.  But does leave me free to go for a wee myself.

b) Stand outside the cubicle and wait.

Which doesn’t look great. Hanging about in men's toilets is best avoided.

Leaving me NOT free to go wee. As if I move then I’ve left a six year old girl. Alone.

In a unlocked male toilet.

Where anythingone could wander in. No no.

I'm standing guard.

(None shall pass…

<Gets hugged> BOOM!)

Miss6 is done.

She heads off to see if she can reach the shower button. I get to wee.

She still cannot reach the showers and when I start them for her.

Miss6 ducks out of the way and refuses to get even a little wet.

It seems her swimming costume is itchy when it's wet.

Unless she's in the water...

Miss6: '... and that's why I can't get wet before I get in the water'

Gotcha... <Has got nothing>

I thought it was strange.

Normally Miss6 likes to don her swimming costume before we leave for the pool.

And then takes great delight in thrashing me at the 'who can get changed for swimming first' race...

Miss6: 'Winner!' <Does dance>

Whateve's! Well done darling <Grinds teeth>

My poor little angry girl.

Show's me the itchy spaghetti straps she has on her swimming costume.

They annoy her so much balls up her hands in rage. She even lets out a small shout of frustration.

Poor thing.

Miss6 solution to the problem is simple.

Lower the straps until she is in the pool. Go nips out.

I consider letting Miss6 do this. She is only six. And my nips are well out on display anyway. What’s the difference really.

It can't hurt.

We finally get into the pool.

Miss6 can touch the bottom on tip toes. It's pretty much perfect for her.

She pulls her straps up, as promised. And... Well... There's something wrong with her costume. I know something is wrong.

I can see it.

I can still see her nips.

Which isn't the end of the world (it isn't). But the swimming costume is meant to cover them.

I'm sure it's on backwards. But now that I am looking and thinking about it. I'm not sure.

No experience you see. I don't wear many one pieces.

But it looks wrong enough that I drag her back out of the pool. Carefully not making eye contact with any other parents in the pool. Back to the shower area.

The men’s showers.

We're both shivering away.

It’s an English pool. There's cold air everywhere.

We whip her swimmers off, turn them around, and put them back on.

There's a lot of fighting...

Miss6: 'IT'S TOO TIGHT! ARGHGHG!'

Stick your foot in that hole… No that one, there... <Points>

Miss6: 'It's cold!!! EKKKK!'

etc...

I persevere.

Eventually Miss6 has rotated swimmers on.

And... No. No that's not right at all. Miss6 agrees. That's definitely backwards now.

We agree to turn them around again.

Miss6: 'It's cold!!! EKKKK!'

Foot in there...<Points>

etc...

It takes longer this time.

And Miss6 is stood naked in the men's showers for longer than I happy with. It's deserted at least.

We manage to get her wet swimming costume back on just as some grown up men walk back into showers. Phew.

But it's still not right.

Stupid swimming costume.

I realise we've been lucky so far.

No one has walked in on us whilst we struggle with her swimmers. But we both know.

We need to do this properly now.

We need to work out what the smeg is going on with these swimmers.

Safe in a cubicle.

Door locked. We removed the swimmers again. I look for some instructions. Anything really that would suggest what we are doing wrong.

It says wash at 30, don't iron, it's made from plastic. I know all that. Useless.

Where’s the ‘this end up’ label.

(Wisey)

We put the wet cold swimmers back on Miss6.

Miss6: 'Ekkk! Argghhghg! Grrr...'

Foot! HERE!

etc...

I am running out of ideas.

I ask her to spin so I can see the problem from all angles.

I don't want to have to go home. Not having swum. And admit a swimming costume beat me.

Despite being a Dad for nearly a decade (oh bacon), I still have some pride.

Somewhere. It maybe hidden though.

Come on brain! Think!

I ask Miss6 to spin again.

Which she loves doing anyway. And this time I notice there's a lot of fabric around her bum.

Well that could be it. Then without really thinking it through or anything that could be consider thoughtful. A guess.

I grab the top of the swimmers and lift Miss6 up by them. Maybe brute strength will magically work!

Her bottom slides deeper into the swimming costume. And suddenly it fits perfectly.

Nips covered too.

Me and Miss6 exchange looks.

Who knew! Neither of us. We have a little giggle about it. Then run off to swim.

And have a lovely time together.

X

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