This is one of my sayings I'm fond of, being meaning to post it for a while and keep forgetting. Not terribly appropriate given my previous post about my giggling son, but timing has never been by strong suit, but anyway;
Parenthood; a state of being best suited for people who are tired of having free time and disposable income.
Wednesday, 30 March 2016
The giggling baby
If there's one thing that puts the shine of being a father it's making your kids laugh. It's a truly magical thing - especially when they're little. There's a video on our facebook timeline from about 2 years ago of me making Jamie laugh by having him punch me in the face (I know, what a truly irresponsible thing to teach a child to do) but he thought this was absolutely hilarious - which overrides any requirement for sensible parenting.
It's probably my favourite piece of cinematography (I realise calling it that is a bit of a stretch, but meh). Hollywood can go taking a flying f***, it'll never produce anything as entertaining for me as that two minute video.
Anyway, last night, his little brother giggled for the first time - and only very briefly, but it was enough to make me gasp and forgive the last three months of dirty nappies. What prompted this post was I just got a text from my wife telling me he'd just done it for her as well, so it seems that the giggle ferry has arrived and now the search for things he finds amusing begins - I suspect more face punching will be involved.
It's probably my favourite piece of cinematography (I realise calling it that is a bit of a stretch, but meh). Hollywood can go taking a flying f***, it'll never produce anything as entertaining for me as that two minute video.
Anyway, last night, his little brother giggled for the first time - and only very briefly, but it was enough to make me gasp and forgive the last three months of dirty nappies. What prompted this post was I just got a text from my wife telling me he'd just done it for her as well, so it seems that the giggle ferry has arrived and now the search for things he finds amusing begins - I suspect more face punching will be involved.
Tuesday, 29 March 2016
Early morning screwup
Damn, did I start the day in the bad books. I use my phone as an alarm clock and after messing around with it last night I had accidentally set it to the wrong time and as it turned out - to the worst possible time... it went off 5 minutes after my wife had got back into bed after the 5am feeding and woke the wee one up (he's still in our room btw).
As starts to the day go, this one could have gone better.
Anyway, after 10 minutes or so it became obvious, despite him not screaming the house down, he wasn't going to go back to sleep on his own. So up I got and settled him back down, which to be fair wasn't too bad, no more than 5 minutes of rocking and gently lowered him back into his moses basket - treating him like a piece of live ordnance. I considered going back to bed, it was another 45 minutes before my alarm would go off for real, but could sense the rage emanating from the far side of the bed and decided the last thing this day needed was alarm going off again - so discretion being the better part of valor I etreated off work early.
I don't need a crytal ball to know there's some apologising in my future.
As starts to the day go, this one could have gone better.
Anyway, after 10 minutes or so it became obvious, despite him not screaming the house down, he wasn't going to go back to sleep on his own. So up I got and settled him back down, which to be fair wasn't too bad, no more than 5 minutes of rocking and gently lowered him back into his moses basket - treating him like a piece of live ordnance. I considered going back to bed, it was another 45 minutes before my alarm would go off for real, but could sense the rage emanating from the far side of the bed and decided the last thing this day needed was alarm going off again - so discretion being the better part of valor I etreated off work early.
I don't need a crytal ball to know there's some apologising in my future.
Monday, 28 March 2016
Incidental comedy
Whilst I will moan and complain about the many many downsides of being a father, I wouldn't give it up for the world as it offers moments of complete hilarity that come out of nowhere and not only make your day brighter but will, at least temporarily, eclipse all the pain and stress. I was luck enough to catch one of those moments on a photograph.
It's such a simple thing, a baby sticking it's tongue out just at the right moment, but it brought me so much happiness, and continues to do so even a week later, and hopefully for a long time to come.
Maybe I should get it printed, framed and put somewhere prominent to help take the edge off the 4am feeds.
It's such a simple thing, a baby sticking it's tongue out just at the right moment, but it brought me so much happiness, and continues to do so even a week later, and hopefully for a long time to come.
Maybe I should get it printed, framed and put somewhere prominent to help take the edge off the 4am feeds.
Saturday, 26 March 2016
Babysitting duty
So I've got the kids tonight. The wife is going to be off socialising and I'm left babysitting.
My mother would be horrified to hear me call it that. As far as she's concerned a parent can never babysit their own kids. "That", she would say, "is called parenting." And whilst she may be right, whatever it's called, I'm doing it.
Now whilst being left alone with both kids is a daily occurence for my wife it's a fairly rare one for me, so there's a certain amount of trepidation. Young kids, if they set their mind to it, can be more than a handful. I can't mention this to my wife (it's OK, she'll never read this) as the automatic response will be "that's what I have to deal with every day". Which is true (she's a stay-at-home-mum), but it prompts the reply "that means you've had lots of practice so it's easier for you", which in turn leads to me sleeping on the couch.
So, I've got a hanful ahead of me and no one to sympathise with me. I suspect there's be screaming, toys thrown and at least one tantrum. And god knows what the kids'll be like.
My mother would be horrified to hear me call it that. As far as she's concerned a parent can never babysit their own kids. "That", she would say, "is called parenting." And whilst she may be right, whatever it's called, I'm doing it.
Now whilst being left alone with both kids is a daily occurence for my wife it's a fairly rare one for me, so there's a certain amount of trepidation. Young kids, if they set their mind to it, can be more than a handful. I can't mention this to my wife (it's OK, she'll never read this) as the automatic response will be "that's what I have to deal with every day". Which is true (she's a stay-at-home-mum), but it prompts the reply "that means you've had lots of practice so it's easier for you", which in turn leads to me sleeping on the couch.
So, I've got a hanful ahead of me and no one to sympathise with me. I suspect there's be screaming, toys thrown and at least one tantrum. And god knows what the kids'll be like.
Friday, 25 March 2016
Important life lesson (1)
If considering purchasing a beanbag that requires you to actually pour in the beans yourself... DON'T!!!
That's an hour of my life I'll never get back.
That's an hour of my life I'll never get back.
Wednesday, 23 March 2016
Birth of a blog
Just wanted to take the time to credit my wife, Sarah, for this blog. It was totally her idea.
It came about during the glorious child free lunch we had at a local pub last weekened when my parents came to visit and babysat for a couple of hours. My plan had been to write a book about my experiences as a father (which is as magical and wonderful as it is infuriating and draining). In fact it still is my plan to write that book, but she pointed out that this is the 21st century and these days you need to first establish a following before you take on something that ambitious.
And so here I am, blogging into the ether in the hopes that someone stumbles across it and clicks the follow button (hasn't happened yet) and will eventually help me promote a book.
Writing a book has always been one of my lifetime ambitions. There were three, the first being to have my name on a patent (which I achieved) and the third to be the proud owner of a Lotus Turbo Esprit - a result of James Bond's The spy who loved me and has since been removed from the list (I've been lucky enough to own a sports car when I was younger and owned it long enough to know I can't be trusted behind the wheel of a fast car) and has never been replaced with anything else.
So, book it is then.
It came about during the glorious child free lunch we had at a local pub last weekened when my parents came to visit and babysat for a couple of hours. My plan had been to write a book about my experiences as a father (which is as magical and wonderful as it is infuriating and draining). In fact it still is my plan to write that book, but she pointed out that this is the 21st century and these days you need to first establish a following before you take on something that ambitious.
And so here I am, blogging into the ether in the hopes that someone stumbles across it and clicks the follow button (hasn't happened yet) and will eventually help me promote a book.
Writing a book has always been one of my lifetime ambitions. There were three, the first being to have my name on a patent (which I achieved) and the third to be the proud owner of a Lotus Turbo Esprit - a result of James Bond's The spy who loved me and has since been removed from the list (I've been lucky enough to own a sports car when I was younger and owned it long enough to know I can't be trusted behind the wheel of a fast car) and has never been replaced with anything else.
So, book it is then.
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