The Ideal Woman

Remember I mentioned that I read more crap from the Life and Style section of timesonline rather than doing other, more meaningful things these days? Well, true to form I've stumbled over an article that tickled me.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/men/article4790198.ece

Giles Coren cracked me up, even though I don't want a woman who makes the admission he seeks, probably because I have neither no doubt!

Fortunately, I happen to believe such a creature does exist. MPLST is the all round perfect woman. Perfect for me at least. She might be surprised to find I think this, because I generally find something to pick at in everything she does, and I'm usually not shy in telling her. That's more down to me being a narky twat than her failings as the perfect partner though.

The perfect woman will be good company when you go shopping for a dress. She may try on 50, she may even go back and buy the first one. But what she must always be prepared to do is accept your word that the said dress may look terrible once on her person, may even make her arse look big, or heaven forbid, actually looks fantastic.
And another thing, she needs to understand that 10, 12, 14, 16, are just numbers (less than that, is not a woman. Eat carbs girls. Lots of carbs. And cheese.)There is no point whatsoever in a lady squishing her carcass into clothes of the size she thinks she should be. Especially lingerie, the next size up is always more flattering. Women who know this are rare. Women who are prepared to live by it, even rarer. Of course, it's all immaterial for me right now, because there is nothing in the world that can turn you off to your partner quite like a nursing bra can. I live in hope, she can't breastfeed forever.....

A woman who can do "mans" stuff is brilliant. I once watched on as MPLST got out the jigsaw and laid a laminate floor, whilst insisting I watched football. Seriously, the only thing she could have done to make it better was bring beer. Well, maybe that's not the only thing, but you get the gist. This was early in our relationship though, so I didn't push my luck and ask. I bet she'd bring beer now though. Without being asked too. On top of that, she can put oil in the car, wallpaper, inflate tyres and use a lawnmower. In fact, if I'm honest, she can do a lot of man stuff better than I can. Maybe that's why I'm left with the cooking and ironing? Oh well, it works for us.

Last but not least, MPLST is looking after my boys on her tod. I doubt it's easy, but she's not the type to complain.

Perfect indeed.

Sleep at Last

Uninterrupted sleep. Sheer bliss! Almost better than making the baby in the first place.....
Only once before have I ever been remotely pleased to get to work, funnily enough that was when BB was born, but in truth I've got a little bit of a cheek. That time I managed to work it so I had 14 weeks off, and 6 of them were spent at home with BB and MPLST post birth. This time, I only (yes, only) managed to wangle 8 off, and since LL was 2 weeks late, I've only experienced sleep deprivation for a little more than 3 weeks this time around.
Even that claim is a little bit lame. In some respects, my latest venture into fatherhood is not quite what I expected. MPLST has seen to each and every night time bum change when she has been feeding, leaving me to see to BB whilst her and the LL catch up on some much needed zeds in them mornings. Not sure I'm getting the best end of that particular deal, as I get the proper stinky nappies, whilst she bathes in the glory of changing the sweet smelling chicken korma ones. It seems that in the early days of multiple baby homes, dad has to concentrate on being a good husband (ie a housewife) as opposed to doing dad things.

16 Stone of Jelly

What is it about those bloody creatures that makes me buckle whenever I see one? More to the point, how am I to avoid making my kids fearful of tiny little (aye, right!) creatures that are more afraid of us than we are of them? - I use "us" loosely here by the way.

The other night, not one, but two of these rampaging beasts found there way to within 4 feet of my person. Just when I was beginning to conquer my fear of the damn things by getting rid of smaller ones with kitchen roll (a big step forward for BFS), my living room turns into a scene from Archnaphobia and I have developed a condition known locally as the Heebie Jeebies. In my defense, these weren't small, they were bloody well massive. 8 feet tall I tell you. At least!

Let's face it, in all other respects I consider myself a man's man. The kind who enjoys contact sports. I can be confrontational with creatures which have less than 6 legs (though I'm smart enough not to take on a bear, for instance). I don't even wear Marigolds when I'm cleaning the loo - now THAT'S tough.......but spiders, well, creepy crawlies in general........uggggggggggh!

So now we live with the Teuchtars in the countryside, I need to raise 2 lads not to be big jessies like their old man, otherwise I can only imagine the torment they will receive during their school years. I'm told boys round here eat big spiders for breakfast before they ride their tractors to school. I'll need to find a way though, because I understand that teaching them to thump other kids who extract the urine is no longer an acceptable parenting method.

2 Under Two - Not Any More!

Today is BB's 2nd birthday, so technically, we are no longer the parents of 2 children under two years old. Naturally, I expect all our problems to be solved overnight with this revelation, because it's having both kids under this magic number that makes everything so damn tiring. Isn't it?

The picture above is his birthday cake, which I had nothing what so ever to do with making by the way. I did keep Little Lad amused long enough for mum to work her magic though. She's setting a high standard, I wonder what next year will bring? Since moving from the bright lights of the city to our new, more rural abode, BB has developed a little fetish for tractors. Our friends and family seem to have picked up on this, which might explain why my living room looks like the Massey Ferguson production line at the minute. However, I did have a lot more to do with the destruction of the tractor pictured, which I can confirm, tastes as good as it looks.

The weekend with three turned out to be just as easy/difficult (depending on which side of bed one falls out of) as having the two. SS and BB had a ball together, which if anything freed up more time to do other things that new parents need to do, but inevitably can't get done. So one weekend down, three happy kids AND a tidier house.... I'm getting the hang of this dad malarkey I think.

2 Babies - Twice the Work?

Having two is simply not as straight forward as having twice the hassles of having one. Whilst I'm sure we will benefit in the years ahead to some degree by having our kids so close together, right now we're left questioning our own judgment. Why? Because we are totally wrecked!
LL is not even 2 weeks old, both the wife and I have golf size bags under our eyes. Our house resembles Ground Zero and all of that with a baby who is utterly spoiling us in terms to him being fairly easy going. I should have known this, because I recall just how knackered I was after SS spent a weekend with us when BB came along. I could and should have learned something from that me thinks....
BB's terrible two's tantrums are increasing in their ferocity which leads me to ask if this is a direct answer to him having a baby brother, yet on the other hand, he seems genuinely excited at the baby, despite said baby stealing his prized possessions. He did seem just a little put out yesterday to realise that his push chair had been converted back to a pram and contained his little brother, leaving no room for him. That aside though, I think the tantrums were coming anyway.

On a positive note this week, BB and I are having much more QT. Mummy continues to do nightshifts pretty much single handedly, whilst BB and I do our breakfast routine. He has had 2 major high points this week, well one for him and one for me really! He was really impressed with the ride on lawnmower I've now got to mow the lawn, which he hitched a ride on for the duration with the biggest possible smile a little boy could muster. I was really chuffed to have him do his first wee wee in the grown up loo, despite Domestic Management thinking it's too early for that stuff. I'm not getting carried away, but it's a start.

Of course, having two, results in twice the pleasure, but human nature makes it easy to see past that bit right now! Besides that, the babies are synchronised in that they are NEVER EVER happy, contented and settled at the same time.
SS is coming this weekend. Much as though I'm looking forward to that, roll on Monday!

Let The Blethering Continue

Finally, they are home. Ironically, the natural birth option resulted in an even longer stay in hospital for MPLST and the Little Lad, then the previous C Section. The silver lining to that cloud is that the recovery won't be anywhere near as long as last time.
Dad's life has been pretty straight forward, if just a little tiring during their extended stay in hospital. LL looks like a pin cushion. He's had more needles in him than Amy Winehouse. Last time, I was ill prepared for a C Section, this time I wasn't really expecting (does anyone?) the infection, incubator, drip and lumbar puncture. Just as he sorted himself out, MPLST slipped in the shower and needed her stitches redone. Ouch! I can't compete with those two....

In the week that I wasn't blogging, I missed some great blog material too. There was the Meg Ryan soundalike in labour next to us. I swear they were working on their next one already. SS's reaction to her youngest brother was a moment to cherish, as was her departing "I think someone has forgotten to give their daughter a kiss" comment, aimed at no one in particular. Five going on bloody fifteen that one is. I've also been pondering where all the normal people go to have kids, because outside the Maternity Hospital we were in, it seemed to be a collection of junkies, jaikey's and jail birds. Perhaps growing up is bringing out the snob in me?

In retrospect though, we can look back with fond memories. LL just inherited his mother's drama queen gene. She got far more rest in hospital than she would ever have gotten here. The neo natal unit seems to have had a calming effect on LL, who is exceptionally contented most of the time. When we got home, the trials and tribulations of our week were put into context when we found out our neighbours baby has had heart surgery, and is very ill.

So, now we're home, it's back to being dad. My role will revert to chief cook and bottle washer for the remainder of my leave. The worries I had over BB rejecting his younger brother proved unfounded, he has carried on as if nothing has happened. He doesn't seem to mind the new baby hanging off mum's boob all day long either. I know....give it time.