Me Do It!...

BabyBoy2 is changing.

He's now a lizard. He is shrugging off the shackles of being two.

Casting down the trappings of his body and its basic motor controls.

Throwing asunder the gentle and loving support from Team Parent (yay!).

Basically now he wants to do stuff, himself.

<Give you a look>

Which can presents a few problems.

Some stuff he can't do. He may be two and a decent blob of months.

But he is still not three. (the world opens up at three, think oyster ownership, the world MWAH HA HA HAAAaaaaa).

For instance, getting in the car...

<Carries BabyBoy2 to the car ready to plug him into his car seat>

BabyBoy2: 'NOOOOOOOOO!' <Wailing etc..>

Dude? What's up mate?

BabyBoy2: <Surprisingly strong little arms and legs locked rigid against the door frame>

Nice try! <Pushes really hard>

[POP!]

<Resists forcing him… I've got time...>

What's wrong? Use words. Tell me what's wrong? What do you want?

BabyBoy2: <Through snivels and tears> 'Me do it' <Wailing>

Oh... Crap. OK mate. <Puts little boy down on the floor in front of the car door>

<Notices huge streak of snot down jumper>

OK?

BabyBoy2: <Bottom lip is still wobbling, but nods>

<Watches BabyBoy2 climb into the car on his own>

<Is still waiting as the new millennium passes>

<Has regrets>

<Tea is probably cold>

It's hard to let go.

<Dons cape, Miss6 arrives by my side with cape ready, and off we run, arms up>

I can't hold it back anymore!!!

It's hard to let BabyBoy2 grow up sometimes. It's what I want. It's what he wants.

More importantly it's what he needs.

BabyBoy2 has to keep growing up. There are only so many nappies I want to change.

And as with Boy9 and Miss6, as they developed, games just got better and more fun...

Boy9 I think you are NOW ready for this

<Deals cards>

It's a game, which my elder brothers claim they made up...

<Is doing mystical voice>

I've never met anyone else that knows this game...

<Waves hand, mystically>

And no one knows where it came from...

Boy9: 'You just said your brothers made it up'

... Do you want to play or not?

Boy9: 'Sorry.. mystical...'

Yeah... <Thinks> Ohhh I've lost my thread now...

Anyway mystical stuff, oh 'er, special secret family stuff, it's awesome, you'll love it

Boy9: 'Cool. Let's play'

Yes mate! <Sits ready to play, cards in hand>

Boy9: 'How do you play?'

Oh right... Get comfortable...

[There's a card playing montage, laughs, fights, tears, concentrating, dramatic slow mos]

[Months pass, we play every night before bed, Boy9 slowly gets it, starts to understand the nuances (oh yes nuances) of the game, and he slowly becomes a convert player]

Boy9: '... And then I can lay this, that and this... Which means you have to pick up ten cards!'

<Grumpily picks up ten cards>

Boy9: '... And then I lay all of these... And I win!'

<Quietly> … yes...

Boy9: 'Again! That's every night this week I've won!'

Uh-huh... Whateves...

Boy9: 'Another game?'

Sure! But let's change game...

I'm thinking dead arm competition?

(Boy9: ‘So am I doing well Dad?’

… Yeah really well… Say did I tell you about the magic hand rule?

Boy9: ‘No?’

Well if you  got… hang on <Double takes on own cards> if you get these cards

<Shows my cards>

You instantly win ALL the chips and the game is over! Lucky me!!!

<Takes all the chips>)

It's really hard to let BabyBoy2 do stuff himself.

Actually it's not. Given all the time in the world. It would be easy to sit and watch him joyfully try and try again. Slowly mastering what I consider to be simple tasks.

But there's never enough time.

Team Parent (yay!) are always rushing. Unless the three terrors are in bed. Then we are pretty static to be honest.

But we need that too.

The rewards though for letting BabyBoy2 try are huge.

I only have to look at Miss6 and Boy9 to see them.

They, mostly, can dress themselves. Even if their fashion sense and practical sense may need some work...

It's brass monkeys out there…

Boy9: <Looks confused>

It’s very cold. Minus five degree (celsius)...

Boy9: <Looks shocked that weather even exists>

This <Points at his thin summer jacket> is not warm enough!

Boy9: <Has a bit of a paddy, there's an argument, at one point he has no coat on, eventually I get my way (the sensible way)>

Boy9: <Grumpily heads out to the car>

<Notices Boy9 has shorts on>

<Swears quietly into some coats a lot>

<Regains composure, leaves it to natural consequences>

Heh heh

(Tony: We’re never gonna find it... Do you even remember where you last saw it?

Geoff: My helmet? My spare totally white helmet? Designed to blend in with snow?

Tony: Yes… <Taps blaster rifle>

Geoff: In the snow…

[PEW! PEW! PEW!]

Tony: <Into radio> ...er… we’ve a man down here... )

But they can both do lots for themselves.

They can get toys out. Work the remote. Turn on the computer. Vaguely, with pushing and shoving, tidy stuff away. They can find my phone. BabyBoy2 is rubbish at finding things. He’s even worse than me (Lord of all bad findings).

They are both becoming autonomous the mouse leader of the Transformers.

It's great. It's what Team Parent (yay!) want.

It what should be happening.

But...

<Heart fills>

But he's so little. And he's my last little boy. I don't want to let go just yet.

With every new skill he gets. He moves further away from being my baby boy. And this part of my life. With very little children.

And it’s all ending and stuff… <Kicks ground, ignores pain>... faster than I want it to.

<Weeps BIG STRONG MAN TEARS, hell they're like buckets of water splashing on the desk BOOM BOOM, its actually impressive, if not a little apocalyptic>

<Blows nose like a herd of elephants>

I know. I know.

Gotta let him go. Gotta let him become more... urghhhh... independent.

<Spits>

However I don't actually and technically have to be happy about it. Do I?

<Grins>

We've still got many years together when BabyBoy2 is going to need me.

And I best make the most of them…

BabyBoy2: 'Trains' <Points at big heavy trains box>

Trains what?

BabyBoy2: 'Pardon? Sorrwe? ... Pweeease!'

I am late for work… More than normal….

<Gets down box and sits and plays>

<Is double late for work>

However what I want doesn't really matter.

BabyBoy2 has two elder siblings to learn from. He is practically racing along on some things.

Other things not so much, as he has less of Team Parent (yay!) focus.

He's still in nappies at night (WHICH IS FINE), but the other two were out of them by this age.

He's ready. It's us. We are dragging our feet a bit (WHICH IS ALSO FINE).

We can only do our best. Which we are doing.

Which is, say it with me, is fine.

Don't worry about BabyBoy2.

Being the third child has made him more than capable at developing at his own rate.

And, more importantly, being able to remind us he needs to keeps developing at his own rate.

He showed us very clearly the other morning.

It was 6:15 ARGHGHGH WHY! WHY! Go back to bed Miss6! and Team Parent (yay!) was listening to BabyBoy2 calling for us.

He's smart enough to alternate each parent.

He's knows one of us will crack at some point...

BabyBoy2: 'Mummeeeeeeeee... get out! Me get out? Get out? Mummmmeeee'

<No movement from Team Parent (yay!)>

BabyBoy2: 'Daddeeeeeee get out! Me get out? Daddeeeeeee? Pweeeeese? Me get out?'

<Still no movement from Team Parent (yay!)>

BabyBoy2: <Suddenly Quiet>

<Team Parent (yay!) sink back to sleep, BabyBoy2 is safely trapped in his cage cot>

...

<Miss6 is told to stop talking, it is still sleep time>

...

BabyBoy2: 'ME DID IT!'

<Both of Team Parent (yay!) eyes ping open>

Mrs. Amazing: 'Miss6, go see what BabyBoy2 has done...'

She will get there quicker than us.

And Miss6 can be trusted to asses the situation and report back.

She’s awesome like that.

[From the hallway]

Miss6: 'Oh! Well done BabyBoy2'

BabyBoy2: 'ME DID IT!'

<Thuds of Miss6 running back to report>

Miss6: 'BabyBoy2 has climbed out of his cot'

<Team Parent (yay!) look at each other, the dreadful ‘he can escape his cot! We're never going to be able to sleep again!’ truth sinking in>

Mrs. Amazing: <Quietly to me, so Miss6 doesn't hear> 'Craaaaa...'

...p.

X

(Those bars cost money you know… <Is cross>)

Finally... Miss6 Arrives!

It seems Miss5 has been around for ages.

But she's finally been stretched a bit, stuffed full of information and knowledge, and sadly been given a jaw-bone-speed upgrade.

Miss6 has arrived!

<Whoops, hollers, fires gun in the air>

<Gets arrested as guns are illegal where I live>

How's it feel to be six then?

Miss6: 'Good'

Yeah? How so?

Miss6: 'I get proper Lego now' (Not Duplo)

That is good for all of us. Anything else?

Miss6: 'I can dance brilliantly'

Let's see...

<Dances like a Tazmanian Devil possessed by me during Come on Eileen Michael Flatley>

I'm speechless... My moves! You thief!

Miss6: 'My bedtime is a lot later!'

No it's not. And it never will be until you stay in bed until 6:30am <Gives look>

Miss6: 'Oh'

Not 5:30am!...

You can read now! That's good...

Miss6: 'Oh yeah...' <Doesn't really care> 'I can do this too...' <Blinks weirdly>

Oh... Is that helpful? More so than reading?

Miss6: <Shrugs>

Any Superpowers yet?

Miss6: 'The blinking?'

So... no.

<Both a bit disappointed>

I’ll tell you one good thing about being six?

Miss6: 'Yeah'

Well I don't flatten you quite so badly when I bundle you now...

Miss6: 'Yeah heh heh... No! Wait!’

Miss6: <Is bundled>

Six is still fine.

I'm not worried yet. Six is still young and sweet. Six is still finding about the world.

Six is still learning from all around you. Six is not a concern. Six is lovely.

I'll worry about the future when it rocks up.

Especially as my main job right now. What I must be doing for Miss6, right now.

As I see it.

Is setting a high standard of men for her...

<Straightens Mickey Mouse tie>

<Wipes mud off work trainers>

<Puts down Lego>

<Bursts into song with actions>

<Manages to contain self for a ten seconds minute>

<Bursts into song with actions>

And no.

I am not worrying about standards for her picking a mate. Marriage etc.

I believe that is going to have very little to do with me. As it should.

Team Parent (yay!) may end paying for stuff. And I may end mumbling through a speech. Which I may have already been working on for six years.

No.

I am instead thinking of the man standard I would like Miss6 to use to evaluate every man she meets. Yeah... that standard.

<Crumples from the pressure>

I want Miss6 to meet men and make the big decisions herself.

Twit or not?

Shields up or down?

Sexist or human?

Berk or Outcast Island?

Sane or fun?

Marvel or DC?

Wars or Trek?

Bow or Sword?

Cake or Bacon? (both Obv.)

Wang or Wang-Ker?

Smegger or dude?

(Really? ... No mentioned this! CRAAAAAP!)

So six is fine.

Now. It may not come across in what I write.

But I find it hard not to get all squishy when writing about Miss5. (There’s a lot I edit out).

She is my only little girl. Which makes her special+ to me. Boys I've loads of (two).

But daughters I have but one.

And she’s amazing to me. And quite, quite, mad magic.

Obv. Don't tell her any of this.

She'll be unbearable...

Miss5: 'You think I'm magic' <Is dancing around me>

Whatev's! When you're quiet... Which never happens!...

Miss5: 'You think I'm amazing' <Now just doing death-attack-poses around me>

There's moments, sometimes... They pass... I can recall NONE right now...

Miss5: 'Really? Oh no!' <Tears well up and she slinks to the floor>

Oh don't cry shop girl I'm only joking around. I do think you're amazing and magic...

Miss5: <Pops up with beaming smile and more dance moves> 'You think I'm magic! You think I'm amazing!

Also I've learnt loads from Miss5.

Miss5 has shown me the world through her eyes. It's very different. It's been mental.

There's a lot pigeonholing-condescending-glass-ceiling-making-sexist-smeggers out there.

I'm ashamed to say I hadn't really seen them all until now.

But Miss5 has made them stand out for me...

Miss6: 'This one' <Points>

You sure?

Miss6: 'Yep. He believes that only women cook'

What an utter bottom head snot face!

Miss6: <Giggles>

More cake?

Miss6: <Is already eating>

Nor have I ever noticed there were so many colours in the world.

How is that the wrong red? It's red?

Miss5: <Head shake> 'See, I meant this red!' <Show me two identical crayons>

Oh yeah... Very different… <Is lying>

And I’ve always believed that telling a story is a finite thing.

No so with Miss5. No so.

Why end the story? Because the listener has expired.

Why restrict yourself to point as well?

I've so much to learn.

Anyhoo...

Miss4 was magic. Miss5 rocked.

Miss6, I imagine, is going to be even more awesome, magic and rocky.

<Crosses fingers>

(What you drawing Miss6?

… <Looks>...

Hang on!… these are the Death Star plans?

<Is hit over the head and knocked out>)

As normal. I'll avoid a puke inducing-gush-list about Miss5.

And instead here's some stuff you probably didn't know...

1. Miss5 stopped claiming all farts

<Weeps>

Miss4 did. It was great. Really helpful.

But Miss5 did not. Shame. She has been less fart-karmically enlightened this year.

Instead Miss5 does shifty eyes when questioned on nearby smells.

Which is hilarious. Just like her Dad...

<Does shifty eyes>

<Regrets the shift eyes as have now put doubt on my parentage>

<Looks for receipt>

2. Team D is the greatest team ever

I've worked really hard over the last year to bond more with Miss5.

It seems to have worked. <Fist pumps>

And Team D - Daddy & Daughter - frikkin' rock...

<Whispers to Miss5> Team D - Best team ever!!!...

Mrs. Amazing: 'What was that? Better than Team Parent (yay!)?'

Noooo! Team Parent (yay!) is my fav...

Mrs. Amazing: 'Fine!' <Leaves making sure I notice how un-fine it is>

Boy9: <Appears looking hurt> 'I thought Team Ninja-Nerf-Minecraft-Wars was your favourite?'

IT IS! Well...

BabyBoy2: <Hugs my leg> 'SAM!'

Yes I love Fireman Sam too matey!... Dude... <Is in trouble and knows it>

Miss5: <Is doing the Team D dance, third movement>

You're not helping you know!

3. Miss5 rhymed a lot

Miss5 loves to rhyme. Miss5 cloves to clime.

Like that. It's my fault because I join in and probably start it. <Does shifty eyes>

It's become a way for us to talk now. A way for us to malk now.

It's kinda of hard to stop - hard to pop - once you get going - punce you get mowing.

I blame that 'step on a crack marry a bat' rhyme. Despite it’s wiseyness and educational value.

We just expanded it. Perpanded it a bit. In a Miss5 way.

Obvs. it's hella funny. But it does have it's dangers. Have it's crangers.

So from experience, meriance, here is my lost of words to avoid: Duck, gunner, plank, armpit,  bunting and parcel.

Yeah... really didn't hear the bunting one coming...

4. Miss5 hides a lot

In fact she loves to hide. Especially when I am trying to get her to do something. Brush teeth. Brush hair. Get dressed. Leave for school. Off she darts into the next room and then BANG! she's gone. Well SILENCE! she's gone.

Normally midway through me talking.

Under the bed, behind a door, under a desk, in a cupboard, behind a chair. In a tiny nook no one else could get into.

She is small and can squeeze into tiny places. And with all that hair as camouflage.

Miss5 can be like an mimic octopus (see ‘Octonauts and the mimic Octopus’)

One minute she’s there...

WHERE ARE YOU? <Is amazed>

Miss5: 'I'm here!'

WHERE? <Starts swishing the air with hands>

Miss5: 'Here!'

I Can't see you! ARRGHGGHGHH! Who's flicking my tummy!

Miss5: <Morphs out of the surroundings predator stylie> 'Me Daddy!'

<Covers self in mud>

<Is a teeny bit scared>

5. Miss5 can swim 10m

Without doubt. This is the single greatest thing I've done all year.

I helped teach Miss5 to swim. And she got her 10m badge. We did that together. Me and her.

I'm hella proud of her (and me). Swimming with Miss5 very quickly became a huge highlight of my week. I can't believe I ever let anyone else do it.

LET ALONE PAY THEM TO DO IT! DOH!

I'm not even good at it. I'm not. I try. But who cares, we have such fun! Just us two.

It's hella special.

6. Miss5 has picked a favourite Queen song

Some people agonise over this choice for years.

I do. Some never settle on a tack.

'Don't Stop Me Now' is where I'll normally settle. And then change my mind.

But at the young age of five. Miss5 made a choice. It's a big choice. A complex choice.

She’s gone with ‘Killer Queen’.

I'm hella scared, it's like she's warning us all already, ARGHGHGGH RUN FOR THE HILLS HELL HARPIE ON THE LOOSE impressed.

Bye Miss5.

It was delightful (if not a tad emotional... see this <Shudders>).

I was a real honour. Ya loon.

(You got the wallets?

Miss6: ‘Obvs!’

Good girl! <Runs too>)

[Is putting Miss6 to bed after a lovely birthday]

How's it feel being six then?

Miss6: 'I liked being five...' <Is a bit grumpy about it>

You did rock it

<We fist bump and da-da-da-daaaa>

I'm sure six will be even more fun <Crosses fingers>

Miss6: <Looks doubtful>

Imagine all the new, crazy, games and things we'll be able to do, together, now you're six!

Miss6: <Imagines it>

I KNOW! Night!

<Runs off to make dangerous plans>

X