Tales From the Dad Side

14 March 2017

TH-UUU-D!...

It wasn't our fault.

I think. I'm pretty sure. I'm sure.

It wasn't our fault. I don't think we could have reasonably avoided it.

Without affecting BabyBoy2's natural development.

Still. We did know BabyBoy2 could escape from his cot.

And it was on our watch...

<Hangs head... but only a little bit>

It was bedtime at the zoo home.

Team Parent (yay!) we're running our standard 'Divide and Conquer' repel boogies squad attack pattern. Variation Sex-Match.

Mrs. Amazing had been assigned Miss6 to convince to sleep.

I had BabyBoy2 first. Then a quick sit down. Cold tea. Then the level boss.

Bedtime war with Boy9...

NO YOU CAN NOT HAVE ANOTHER CARTOON! IT'S BEDTIME!

Boy: 'IT'S NOT! I GO TO BED AT 7:30!'

NO! THAT'S WHEN YOU GO TO SLEEP! FIRST I, AND THEN YOU READ!

Boy: 'SINCE WHEN?'

SINCE DINOSAURS FOR EVER! ARHGGHHGGH!

Boy: '... Oh... then why can't I have another cartoon now?'

Because... <Head explodes> that's... makes no sense... What?

Boy: 'Are you OK Dad?'

How did I get down here?

(YOU SHALL GO TO BED!

Love the jammies by the way…

<Casts atrocious spell>)

And still BabyBoy2 is the easiest to convince to sleep.

It must be because he is utterly scrummy. And a right little dude.

He has been escaping of late though.

BabyBoy2 (with Miss6's help I bet) worked out how to climb out of his cot recently.

Three mornings we been greeted by a very excited and happy BabyBoy2. Leaping on our bed. Crushing parts of Daddy that don’t like being crushed.

Sometime around 5am (it was hard to see the clock through the tears in my eyes).

And twice BabyBoy2 has been put to bed at night. And then decided sleep that night wasn't really for him. And he had climbed out again.

A real problem. Kind of want him to stay put.

Which so far he’s been awesome at. And happy about it too.

Whereas Boy9 and Miss6 had Team Parent (yay!) running to them far too much...

[Seven years ago]

Boy2: 'Wah'

I'M-A-COMING BOY! <Runs>

Mrs. Amazing: <Cheats at scrabble>

[Four years ago]

Miss2: 'Wah'

Mrs. Amazing: 'Tada! Badger!' <Lays Badger letters>

Mrs. Amazing: 'And, double-points for a comedy word, puts me in the lead!'

Well done! You have made a mortal enemy this night <Draws blood> Great word!

... Badger <Chuckles>

Miss2: 'WAHHHH!'

I'M-A-COMING GIRL! <Runs>

Mrs. Amazing: <Cheats at scrabble, steals letters for Amaze>

[Now]

BabyBoy2: 'Wah'

<Lays 'Jam'> ... and double-points for amusing word... not losing by so much now!

Mrs. Amazing: 'Is 'Jam' really a funny word?'

I'm not even dignifying that with an answer… <Giggles>

BabyBoy2: 'WAHHHH!'

Hey remember when you laid 'Badger'

Mrs. Amazing: 'Yeah...'

BabyBoy2: 'WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'

And then, unbelievably, you got 'Amaze' and got to lay 'AmazeBadger'

Mrs. Amazing: '...er yeah...' <Does shifty eyes>

BabyBoy2: 'WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

BabyBoy2: 'OH COME ON I MIGHT BE HURT UP HERE OR SOMTHING!'

Good times. Good times...

Mrs. Amazing: <Lays 'Windjammers' through my 'Jam'>

Mrs. Amazing: 'You giggled! I get double-points!!!'

BabyBoy2: 'OH FINE! I'LL JUST GO TO SLEEP THEN!'

Damn it...

BabyBoy2: 'Zzzz' (Like a noisy angel)

Anyhoo...

Mrs. Amazing was putting Miss6 to bed.

Reading Miss6 a story and having a right giggle together. Which is lovely to hear.

BabyBoy2 also was lovely to put to bed. We giggled over who gets to sit on the chair first. Then I pretend sit on him. Gag wise a winner with BabyBoy2.

We laughed through all his bedtime books. He yawned a bit. We sang his bedtime song.

As we sing I have him in my arms and my breathing seems to calm him. Winner.

BabyBoy2 was happily laid down for a sleep. Then a quick giggle about him hiding under the duvet. And I'm gone. Door shut.

Not expecting to see BabyBoy2 until the morning.

<Does District 11 three finger salute> <Weeps over Rue>

Just Boy9 to engage in warfare with.

Over his sleep arguments and denial of clocks and their import on our lives.

First. I head into his room. ARGH. As someone mentioned there was Lego on the floor that needed clearing up. Which is probably my fault.

I bought back his huge Lego box. I lazily just balanced it on a chair. For Boy9 to properly put away later.

Yeah, yeah, what the hell was I thinking? Who knows. Boy9 might have... yeah. It was dumb.

Somehow (the smegging Cat) the box had fallen over and there was Lego all over the floor.

Lots and lots and lots of Lego.

(<Sighs>...
<Makes a spaceship>)

So that's where I am.

In Boy9's room scooping Lego up from the floor with my hands.

Mrs. Amazing is busy with Miss6.

And Boy9 is downstairs watching cartoons, not helping at all with the Lego. <Grumbles>

When a strange noise is heard throughout the house...

TH-UUU-D!

I ignore it.

So does Mrs. Amazing. It was probably one of BabyBoy2's teddies being expelled from his cot for some unknown offence. I go back to Lego scooping.

Five, maybe six, seconds pass when the most almighty cry of pain comes from BabyBoy2’s room...

BabyBoy2: 'ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH'

I am already up and running.

And passing Miss6's room. Mrs. Amazing calls out to see if I am going to see BabyBoy2.

I holler yes as I pass.

BabyBoy2’s room is pitch-dark so I flick on the light.

There on the floor I see a very confused. On his side. Cross and crying loudly.

BabyBoy2. Who had fallen when escaping his cot.

(No don't laugh you heartless swines <Tuts>)

Whilst BabyBoy2 was doing his parkour (Free running).

Which involves pulling a chair to his cot, so he can pull himself up and out.

In the dark.

The poor little lad had slipped.

I hug the crap out of him.

I envelop my little dude in my arms as much as I can. And sink to the floor.

His crying is very loud and it resonates with pain. His eyes scream at me 'Why does everything hurt so much right now! What is this! ARGHGGGH! It sucks!'.

It will pass. But right now he needs to be held and loved. A lot.

There’s a bruise on his head already. Poor sausage.

I do a mini-triage: His eyes are behaving like normal, speech is fine, shouty, and mainly ‘ow’, but fine, he's not dopey and he’s behaving like himself (when in pain and cross).

I'm happy his head is just bruised.

BabyBoy2 finally calms.

And is ready for sleep take-two. BabyBoy2 winces a bit as his head touches his pillow.

Poor little dude. My heart goes out to him.

Falling in the dark is not fun.

Obv.ly Team Parent (yay!) are appalled at this turn of events.

And discuss what we can do to make sure this doesn't happen again.

Don't want our little BabyBoy2 getting hurt.

He's scrummy.

(I know how we can protect him!

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Isn’t that Miss6’s’

Yep!...)

But...

On the other hand he’s not tried to escape his cot from again. Which is a right bonus to Team Parent (yay!). And it does save me having to upgrade his cot to a bed. And the chair in his room is the only one he has, so it wouldn’t be ideal to get rid of it...

And BabyBoy2 does seem to be staying put...

For now…

8 March 2017

A Little Breakfast Magic...

Monday morning.

Yuk. And a change to the normal routine.

Mrs. Amazing is not taking BabyBoy2 and Boy9 with her as she heads off to save the world work.

Instead me and Miss6 have the dubious pleasure of their company.

Miss6 has requested pancakes.

In her nicest voice. I'd even been given a hug. Hell yeah I'm making pancakes.

We have pancakes a lot. On any day of the week. As it's a meal everyone will eat.

But Miss6 backed up pancake request with the argument that if we can pancakes on a Tuesday (Shrove Tuesday) we can have them on a Monday.

Fair enough.

Team Parent (yay!) only has one misgiving.

Time. As Monday Mrs. Amazing heads off early.

Still Miss6 did ask nicely. And I got an unforced or not-at-all-reluctant hug!

I head downstairs. Put awesome music on. Kettle on. Whisk pancake batter. Start cooking.

To save time I do three pans at once (oh yes, three). I've five to feed.

I ain't got no time for no one-pan crap.

Miss6: 'Daddy can you move this laundry for me'

... Yes?

Miss6: 'Can you move this...please'

Sure... Why don't you just walk around it?... <Glances over at frying pans>

Ok... Is that better?

Miss6: 'No'

<Moves it again> THERE? <Can see burning going on>

Miss6: 'N-o' <Sounds out the word>

Well h-e-r-e is where I am going to put it <Runs back to burning pancakes>

Mrs. Amazing: <Enters room> 'Oh! it's smokey in here'

Mrs. Amazing: <Opens every window everywhere>

Miss6: <Waves back>

(You know… <Looks at pancake batter>

I think this situation calls for Big Ol’ Beefy..

Boy9: ‘Ol' Beefy?’

Yep! Ol’ Bloody enormous-ENORMOUS frying pan)

I do three sizes of pancakes.

BabyBoy2 and Miss6 prefer small pancakes. It raises the Golden Syrup to pancake ratio I am sure. But also the bigger ones they struggle to cut up. And I'm fed up watching them shove the whole thing into their mouths at once and choking.

It's yuk.

Medium for Miss6 and Boy9. Miss6 likes variety.

And large pancakes for Boy9, Mrs. Amazing and me. Although all of Team Parent (yay!) will eat any size really.

However Miss6 has recently upgraded and now wants big pancakes.

So recent in fact. I did not know.

So as Boy9’s still not at the table. I give Miss6 of Boy9's large pancakes.

I am sure it will be fine.

Brainzilla: '... It won't though, will it?'

Lalalalala Not cooking anymore, it'll WILL be fine Lalalalala

Then Mrs. Amazing escapes leaves for the day.

Boy9 enters and sits...

[Sinister music plays]

[One millisecond has passed]

Miss6: 'I was looking at the trees outside'

OK... Move here. Look at trees. But most importantly EAT <Points at cold pancakes>

Boy9, I'll get your pancakes, just chill about Miss6, she was really looking at trees

<Isn't as convinced as I sound>

<Is swapping hands quickly> Here ya go!

Boy9: 'These are small pancakes?' <As though I have suggested he lick the toilet>

All the big ones got eaten... <Doesn't mention it was Miss6>

Boy9 does not take this well.

But I calm him down. It's been a weekend of sickness and bugs. He is going to be on the edge of burning fury. I am prepared.

He calms. And begrudgingly eats the smalls pancakes.

I don't think I've ever seen anyone so offended at having to eat, small, fluffy pancakes covered in Golden Syrup.

That drama resolved.

I find BabyBoy2 and tell him has to ask to get down the from the table.

BabyBoy2: 'Sorwee Daddy, sorwee...' <Head down, brilliant, heartfelt sorry>

Dude! It's OK... <Gives hair ruffle> Just come back to the table and ask to get down...

BabyBoy2: <Goes back to table> <Starts eating more pancakes>

... <Didn't expect that>

<Sees Miss6 NOT eating> Miss6! EAT!

Miss6: <Starts furious eating>

[Two milliseconds later]

Miss6: <Stops eating>

Eventually.

And amazingly before the end of time itself. All three children have eaten enough pancakes.

BabyBoy2 twice. Top work that boy. Gold star.

Boy9 is fringe on how much he has eaten. But a sneaky banana next to him is soon consumed. Miss6’s full too.

The hatrick.

Right Team! <Smiles weirdly by accident>

Let's all empty the dishwasher together!

I'll put rocking music on!!!

Boy9: 'F'Off'

No way.

I am not falling for this one. Letting them all go. I've cooked and served. I soothed and I've calmed. I am not being left with all the dishes to do. And there's some to put away. That I washed last night.

NO WAY!

Boy9 you pick a song...

I need Boy9 to buy into this.

The others look up to him, figuratively, speculatively and literally.

If Boy9 engages I've a pretty good chance with Miss6 and BabyBoy2 joining in.

Plus Boy9 likes rock. He picks 'Lukas Graham - Seven Years'.

Swing and a miss.

Great song.

Bad, bad choice for this moment. We need high tempo. Dancey music. I want to fill the room with sound and beats. If I can't boogie my way around the kitchen whilst I put away plates than what is the point.

Also the monkeys are more helpful when they are dancing about with me, putting stuff away.

However. I need Boy9. I reluctantly agree.

But then suddenly, and very suspiciously, Boy9 needs to use the toilet.

Seeing a chance to look doubly-good.

Miss6 brings her plate over...

... Thanks... But we gotta empty this first... <Opens dishwasher>

Miss6: <Mutters> 'Fairy poop'

I rule that Boy9 has missed his window.

Good. As he naffed off when everyone else started clearing plates.

Miss6 should have the next choice. As she did come straight over to help.

BabyBoy2 has arrived to help too.

(Boy9: Dad? Where does the sword-axe go?

Fifth stud from the right, between the knuckle-smasher…

And your mother’s weekend pike...)

But I am now on guard. And want to check what Miss6 may choose.

Just in case...

Miss6? If theoretically you were given the song choice, what would you go with?

Miss6: 'Trolls soundtrack!'

Oooooo... good choice... But we have already heard that today...

Twice… <Gives look>

I declare father-marshall-law and just pick something myself.

Something appropriate for how much I we all want to bounce around.

Also something I know we will all love. It only takes a few swipes on me phone to find something appropriate: Macklemore and Ryan Lewis - Can't Hold Us (it’s only link I could find that had the album version).

The track is only four minutes and eighteen seconds.

It's not long. And once it is done. Fights will break out.

Miss6 and Boy9 will come to loggerheads again. And again.

BabyBoy2 will have a right hissy fit over his socks.

And at some point I will ban Boy9 until the end of time from using the computer in the morning as he's so grumpy when gets off it. And for making Grannie Amazing wait.

Miss6 will forget she is supposed to be getting dressed for thirty minutes and make us late for school. And I am will be glad to get to work.

And I'm never glad to get to work.

But back... back before the rest of the morning happened.

As the first beat of 'Can't Hold Us' floated out of the speaker. As the opening drums thumped out and filled the air.

I cranked the volume up to twelve and the piano's melody started...

Boy9 appears out of the toilet.

Fist pumping.

I've arms up and I'm bouncing about.

We all are. Miss6 pretends to do the fast rapping. (It's hella cute). BabyBoy2 is fist pumping too. Moving with nought by raw passion.

Boy9's busts some excellent moves as winds his way over to us.

The joy of the music, mine, theirs, spreads and it builds on itself. Envelops us all.

Everyone is singing away. Not the right lyrics for most of us. BabyBoy2 is basically shouting stuff. But who cares!

Plates and cups are flying (safely) out of the dishwasher. And eight hands are making light work of a long job for one.

Whilst boogieing! (real word).

(All three children, and their combined help, represented, fairly I feel, as an octopus called Hank)

Miss6 is passing things to Boy9 that she cannot reach up to do.

Glasses. Mugs for tea. The precious stuff.

BabyBoy2 is carefully and lovingly included by Miss6 and Boy9 who leave things for him to do. Plastics mostly.

Miss6 stops what she is doing to guide him to the right cupboard.

They're so busy I can sneakily siphon the dry washing up on the sink, into what we are all doing, so we do that too!

#WIN!

Miss6 changes to clearing the table and loading.

I didn't even ask. All with a boogie.

She clearly doesn't want this moment with the music to stop. Nor does Boy9, he's helping her.

I stop BabyBoy2 from unloading the dirty plates and explain we are now filling.

He gets it. Ish.

For that song.

We are all dancing and singing away. In our own way. In our own styles.

It's really quite beautiful.

My lovely little loons.

Hi! <Waves>

14 March 2017

TH-UUU-D!...

8 March 2017

A Little Breakfast Magic...

Blog Archive