Never Mind Rage Against the Machine

That's right. I haven't blogged in weeks, and when I do find the time, it's to have a go at my dear old mother! I'll set the scene -

I call home about half an hour after kiddy bed time. You know when someone answers the phone in that tone? The one when you can tell immediately that something just hasn't gone quite to plan. I detected it in my darling wife's voice. I couldn't possibly repeat what she said because a) my mother might read this, and b) that's the same mouth that is kissing my kids goodnight.

My mother you see, is obsessed with leaving a light on for the kids at night. Between my daughters mother, other grandmother and her, they have managed to create a fear of the dark that scares poor SS more than the Bogey Man himself. The boys though, they go to bed every night with the lights out and the door closed. Always have done - despite her best efforts to break the unbroken.

In fact, a week or two ago, I stayed at her house and noticed she was about to put BB's light on. You would think that "Don't you dare put that light on" was as clear a message as one can give. Simple. Understandable. Clear. Apparently not!

Now, we're not totally naive. We know that both our mothers ignore many of our wishes and generally spoil the kids rotten. Each has their grandparents wrapped right around their little finger. We have learned not to be stressed by this, we accept it even. Most of the time, at least. I've turned a blind eye to the sweets and cakes they get. Those are grandparents treats. But sleeping habits.........arrrrrrrrrrgh!

So, here comes the part where we are an ungrateful pair of moaning sods. Normally, she has an excuse. She might say, for instance, it's a strange house when we stay at hers, so she'll leave the light on. I'll say don't bother and she glares at me, but can't do it because I'm staying too. But this time.....this time she is staying at our house. MPLST has had to go away to work for a couple of nights. Excellent, granny swings her shifts and comes to look after the kids and take BB to nursery. Even better, they have the familiarity of their own bedrooms. What could be simpler?

Why then, has MPLST just spent an hour with a screaming boy who wants the light on, when he has managed every single night for almost 3 and a half years without one?

Tonight, she was right. My mother is indeed a fucking menace!

Doesn't Time Fly When You're Having Fun?

I've been home almost a whole week - not sure where it's gone, but there have been several "firsts" this week.

On Thursday, MPLST was in the office, and had heard on Radio Fit Like that Bob The Builder was playing in town. There were tickets left, so I took the chance and treated the boys to an afternoon show. I was slightly apprehensive about the 1 year old, but it turns out he will sit and watch anything for longer than most 3 and 4 year olds.

On Friday, MPLST and I celebrated the 4th anniversary of our wedding but taking the kids (plus the biggest one) and leaving them at gran and grandad's whilst we treated ourselves to some much needed time together. Gran on the other hand, decided it would be good for all the cousins to play together, so had my brother kids over too. Nutter! That's two 1 year olds, a 3, 4 and 6 year old too. Mayhem......

We got back to them on Sat, and my brother and I took the eldest 3 to a fun house. BB struggles to keep up with the older two, but didn't seem phased. All three had a great time. On Saturday night, it was just the 3 to look after - a dawdle by comparison.

Another first on Sunday for BB was a trip to the flicks. Having noted that BB could sit and watch something without being a major pain in the arse, we decided to take SS and BB, leaving LL (and my mother who was nightshift last night) to get some rest. SS has been "hundreds of times" so it was old news for her. We watched a 3D cartoon, so I just hope he doesn't expect a nice pair of dark glasses every time he visits the cinema in future!

And there we have it. I'm already 25% of the way through my leave, and still haven't shaken the nightshift body clock - this was not helped by 3 kids sharing the room next to ours at my mother's house, and then BB turning up at 4.30 this morning to tell me he had "snot."

The next few weeks will see us prepare for Santa's arrival, and it has to be well organised, because daddy is away this year.

How Not to Endear Yourself to Your Mrs

MPLST did indeed return on Friday - my absence from the world wide web has (rather unfortunately) not been because she has pinned me to the bed and has been making up for lost time. No such luck, we're just trying to squeeze in some family foursome time before I go back to work.

I didn't do myself any favours tonight though. We were returning from a shopping trip and a visit to Grandma's for the boys when, I got caught out by one of many floods on the way home. We aqua planed before blowing out one back tyre, and the rear bumper is hanging off. On the bright side, the lads slept through the whole, albeit brief, drama. I even managed to move the car 3 times to find a suitable place to jack it up, got the wheel changed and was home before either of them woke.

Now that we are all home and in one piece, we can of course laugh about the whole thing -ok, maybe a wry smile is as far as we'll go at the moment. So the car (her car!!) is a bit worse for wear. It definitely needs a new wheel and tyre. We'll assess the damage to the back end in the day light.

Safe to say though, that I don't think I'll be getting pinned to that bed any time soon......

Bad Cop Bad Cop

MPLST was due to return home today. BB had been excited to get as far as one sleep to go on our way to nursery yesterday, so it was with great care I broached the subject of mummy being delayed for a few days. As I carefully explained that mummy needed to stay at work for a few extra days, and that it's ok to miss mummy, because daddy misses mummy too, he calmly said "Ok, daddy. I wanna watch TV" and ran into the living room with some expectation that his wish would be granted.

Hence, no blog yesterday as I was busy feeling sorry for myself. None of this was helped by your eldest (yes YOURS) being up 4 times in the night. However, I am pleased to report that he has taken on board some clear and concise instructions from daddy, and last night I got a whole 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Bizarrely, I'm still cream crackered though.

All we could muster today after nursery was to play in the garden. All rather uneventful - the highlights included LL standing at the end of the chute getting BB's left boot in the cheek as he arrived at the bottom. Unfortunately for LL, that was also the same cheek I (rather clumsily) caused him to bang against the wall as we left for nursery this morning. BB was also rather willing almost all of the time to "help" his brother down the chute with a gentle wee nudge at the top. See the pic below.

What I have noticed over the last few days is that all this full time dad nonsense that rendered the normally ever so assuring voice of daddy as useless. What I mean is that under normal circumstances, when I raise my voice, the kids generally stop, listen and then do what they are told. I suppose that only works when you are bad cop. So far this week, BB has laughed in my face when I boomed a lecture at him, and today when asked "BB, how many times have I told you not to do that?" I got a rather smiley "Three daddy" with the wave of 3 little fingers and a toothy smile. It may be in his interests that mum gets back on Friday at the absolute latest....

There's a Pond in the Park Daddy

BB is getting excited, he's counting down the sleeps. Not so much counting, but getting visibly more upbeat as the number gets lower.

For the first time since I got home, it wasn't chucking down this morning. The troops were ready to fall out at 0830, and BB cycled his way to nursery for the first time. I can see me dropping the BF bit if I keep carrying LL and trying to keep up with Valentino Rossi.

So on the ball were we this morning, I was at the butcher by half nine. It's a brave man who does it, but since the wife was away, I gambled on a liver casserole for the boys tonight. She hates it. I don't mind it. It's good for them, so that was the reasoning. I thought BB would be hard work, and although I got him to help with the cooking, he really wasn't going to eat it. In fact, he described it as "yucky" whilst pulling a contorted face worthy of winning any gurning competition. LL on the other hand, couldn't get enough of it - finished all of his in double quick time, then most of his brothers. 2 portions of that in the freezer. Well done me!

Before that, we did find time to sneak in a visit to the park. It's still pretty much flooded in areas, which is unfortunate, as BB had wanted to wear wellies, and I talked him into wearing shoes. We were there about 5 mins by the time he had waded through a muckle dub and soaked his feet. Since we were only 5 mins from home, and he was already wet, I figured I'd let him go for it, and see if I could get a really cool pic, but he wouldn't play along. Besides, it was proving hard work just to keep his brother dry.

Stripped of all Testosterone?

This single parenting malarkey thing is doing weird things. I can almost feel my penis shrink by the day, as both other men and woman question why I am left with the kids. I'm almost frightened to admit that I can do it any more. On one hand, I am making a rod for a the back of each and every man we know, as each ones missus berates him for not being able to have the kids for even a single weekend. On the other, I'm being further drawn into conversations with other mums about toddler groups and the associated politics. I really can't be arsed with all that.It got even worse today. In an effort to keep BB amused, we went to the park, but it rained on the way, so we baked some Mr Men cakes when we got home. Baking??? WTF? I don't mind cooking - cooking is manly. The best chefs are blokes. Maybe even the best bakers are - but they are all failed chefs, so that doesn't count. So far as I know, only Ainsley Harriot slipped through the net - the rest are men's men, are they not?.
It's not as though I've not tried to man it up a little this week. I've ignored the ironing. I've watched football Tues, Wed and Thurs, boxing on Fri, and football and boxing on Sat. On Sat, I even drank beer. But still I fear I'm only just short of having my man breasts fill up with milk.Anyways, BB enjoyed licking the bowls. I've not been able to get LL far enough away from me today to get a picture. He's fine though. We're looking after him.

Incy Wincy Spider

Today we headed off to a friends 1st birthday party. I'm not in the habit of taking pictures of cakes - it's a very girlie thing to do (the only men you see taking pics of the cutting of the cake are the ones who are under the thumb!). On this occasion though, I know MPLST would admire it, and the blog is primarily for her this week.

BB started off ok, but then lost out in a scrap over a balloon that left him all grumpy. The spider cheered him up - but it's not just any old spider, it's Incy Wincy Spider. By the time we left, it was more of a black blob with legs though.

LL had a merry old time. He feasted like a king (as did BB), they watched a magician (well BB did - LL was more interested in the toys on the floor). BB brought that balloon sword home with him, but it's just a balloon, not a sword. I mysteriously lost the horn thing he is trying to show his brother how to use (I honestly did not intend this, I even stopped the car to look for it - but lets face it, an hour and a half of that in the car might have tipped me over the edge).

Sorry, pics were crap and blurred today, so that's the best you get.

Chugga Chugga Choo Choo

Today's special treat for good boys was a trip on the train. BB was excited to be going on a train - that was until 5 mins before ours arrived, and a huge one went though the station at about 80 miles an hour. He then informed me he wanted to go on a slow train. He didn't like fast ones. All his constipation problems could have been cured in that instant.

BB just wanted to get back on the train - it wasn't that he didn't want to shop, he just wanted to be on a train. Matters took a turn for the worst when we parted company at the top of an escalator. After taking the lift up to the 2nd floor, he told me he wanted to go down the "stairs". As he wanted to hold my hand, I had to explain that because I had the pram, I would have to put that on first, hold it with one hand, and hold his hand with my other. Couldn't be easier I was thinking. I've done it loads. That was until he decided to miss his step, and fell on his backside, then scrambled backwards. So there we are, heading in opposite directions, hands outstretched like a moment from some Hollywood love story, him howling and me telling him it's ok. So here was my choice.....let the one strapped into his pram bounced down the escalator unaided and take a step back for the big one. Or, leave him to see if he would take the step before I got to the bottom.....

As I got to the bottom (you didn't really think I'd let LL bounce down, did you?), I'm trying to reassure him, whilst cursing this bloody pram that is preventing me get to him sooner. Meanwhile he is working himself into a frenzy. I'm pondering, do I leave LL here, take a quick run around to the up escalator? For a brief minute, I even considered sprinting back up the down one. There was no one on it - I know 20 years ago I had the pace to do it, but I quickly discarded the notion for fear of looking like Bambi on ice if I tripped. Fortunately, a bloke just picked him up and brought him down, so the drama was short lived.

In the end, I decided that I could make the earlier train home than I originally intended, but arrived at the station with 45 mins to kill. LL woke up hungry, and BB couldn't understand why none of the trains were his. Twas a joyous experience.

To make matters worse, I bumped into a few old faces who had crew changed and were on their way home. Not very North Sea Tigery to be sober at the train station with a couple of bambinos. The train home was harder work - no seats and a grumpy LL. Not too bad a day though.
They've been fed left overs from the fridge - and I can't find any of the takeaway menus. What the hell have you done with them? Trust you to tidy up the one thing I'd find useful......

Rainy Days

Well, that's the first one over with. Let me tell you, he's not been laughing like that all day!

We were forced into spending the afternoon inside a) because is was pissing down and b) because dad's get up and go has got up and gone. Generally we are the type who work by the motto "there's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes" but today I just couldn't be bothered adding wet to tired. When I picked BB up from nursery and asked him what he did today, he told me they didn't play outside today. He got a strange look from the teacher, who obviously only does outside in August, and didn't seem to get his disappointment.

So this afternoon has been one spent playing, reading and as you can see watching the box. Check out the bed head on your little lad.

Just before bed, as I was doing the milk, there was a howl from the bottom of the stairs. When I asked BB what he had done to LL, he rather excitedly told me he had kicked him, and proceeded to demonstrate an action Bruce Lee would be proud of. He continued on this gleeful little fresh air kicking spree after he apologised to his brother, only to collapse like a Chelsea striker when he booted the metal rod that holds the worktop up by the freezer. And there endith the first lesson in what goes around comes around my son.

How Can You Tell That Your Wife Has Left You?

You will recall that a fortnight ago I threw down a challenge to MPLST. All she had to do was write the odd blog, post the odd pic and I'd come home happy.

Two weeks later, and I received one little vidoe clip of LL moonwalking on demand, and a pic of BB on his first day of nursery. What a pitiful effort.

At the moment, we aren't seeing too much of each other. She left this morning and I came back this afternoon. I'm sure this wasn't how this job of hers was supposed to pan out. So, yet again, for a week or so, my blog will revert to a diary of events to keep her in touch. I refuse to be dragged down to her standards!!!

Perhaps one day, I'll get back to being angry with the rest of the world.

Over to You

Not that I'm having a dig or anything.....but I thought I'd mention that it's over to MPLST now. In theory, that means that her blog should have lots of pics and updates as to what's going on. There's no excuse: it's holiday time, so she doesn't even have to rush off in the morning to playgroup. On top of that, like all good men, I made sure she came home to BOTH washing and ironing baskets empty. If only it could be like that on my return.......

Holidays were great. Boys were very well behaved and the family time was brilliant - even if playing scrabble at 8pm on a Saturday night is not quite my idea of perfect. (I can't gloat too much about that, we were pretty even overall - you can be sure I would have mentioned it sooner had I won the bragging rights.) Only downside to hols will toddlers is that we both need a holiday now to get over it - we're wrecked.

I had hoped to revert my blog to general moaning and whinging about anything in particular, but having just read what's happening at work, I doubt I'll have the chance. Maybes when I get back....

I Did It!

All done and dusted. 10 days on my lonesome with the boys, and we still have two. Apart from the bleeding nose on day one, there wasn't even any further blood shed. How remarkably uneventful. Contrary to some of the questions hitting my inbox, they have not mysteriously disappeared, and neither have I for that matter.

Today marks BB's last day at playgroup. He will be off to nursery every morning after the tattie picking holidays. That's 5 whole mornings with just one boy to look after. What will we do with the time? Tidy the garden perhaps? Get out biking and shed the pounds? Who knows....I'll be sure to let you know though.

We're off on our first proper family holiday this soon. Nothing more adventurous than a couple of hours away from home, but a trip nonetheless. It will keep MPLST away from writing the report for the trip she did, and will keep me from washing cars and gardening, so our kids might actually have some time with mum and dad together.

Dr Bam Bam

BB finally got around to wearing his doctor outfit that he got for his birthday today. It's aged 5-6 and hangs off him, because apparently dressing up is all about things being to big for you, says MPLST.

Turns out he's got potential. He put me in the recovery position 4 times, whilst only standing on my family allowance once. Even Dr BB couldn't bring Tinky Winky to life though. (And yes, if I could rally be arsed using photoshop, the glass in those doors would look clean!)

After that we ventured to the great outdoors and up to the Caterthuns.

BB walked up and down and knows that we're taking mum next time. Don't say you've not been warned.

Scatterbrain

You really do get like those you live with.
This afternoon, we squeezed into the car with a friend and her daughter and went to St Andrews aquarium. Just as we got to the first display R squared got themselves down on to their tummies and pressed their faces up to the glass. Would have made a cracking pic, if only some dipstick had remembered to replace the memory card after blogging last night. Doh!

The big boy enjoyed the fish, and the seals. The journey down was amusing. LL crashed out - no surprise there. BB was desperate to sleep too, but the poor wee man was so keen to indulge the lovely Rachel in conversation that he couldn't. To be fair to young Rachel, she is the only person I know who can out talk the two generations that went before her, so he was really up against it today. On the bright side, he's fed, watered and sleeping before 8pm tonight.

The little boy was in the backpack, but I think he was more impressed with the lighting than the aquatic life on display.

On the way home, there was a terrible smell, and for a brief period, we thought that one of our passengers had had number twos. Turned out to be a false alarm, so we can only conclude that the smell actually was Dundee itself.

Speaking of keech though, the true highlight of the day happened on our return home. BB was taking his afternoon dump on his potty, and insisted that Rachel's mummy wipe his bottom. Well, who am I to argue? Rachel's mummy duly obliged, but what somewhat concerned at the sheer mass your boy had shifted - "That's more than I do in a week" said she with a look for utter disbelief.

He's still got it!

Krypton Factor Here We Come

You'll be impressed with your eldest today. We took the car to the village and parked at this end, and he rode his bike all the way to playgroup from there. I even locked it up and did the same on the way home, so as far as he's concerned, he cycled to and from playgroup today.

We've had a battle of wills today - I think I'm coming second. He's been on the naughty step twice and you know how reluctantly I use that. In fact, just as I was putting him to bed and giving him the "you've been a little naughty today, you'll have to learn to do what daddy tells you tomorrow" lecture, he cut me off mid sentence to tell me I was his friend. Butter wouldn't melt I tell you.....

Anyhoos, this afternoon we ventured to a new play park on a recommendation from the yummiest mummy (now that you're on leave you understand) at toddlers. Turns out she'd been told it was good, but couldn't find it - I had more success. Here's a few pics of the loons-

There was an death slide too which I managed to take BB on. He went on it twice himself, but I had to run along side, so I wasn't able to get a decent pic. There's also a swing over the river too, but I didn't show him that you'll be glad to hear.

Cracked It?

I'm back to being responsible for just the two weans again. I'm undecided if 3 is actually easier than 2 in many respects, since SS and BB keep each other amused most of the time making my life easier. That said, if I didn't have the stress of dealing with the SS's loony tune old dear, then it would pretty much have been a stress free weekend. Note to self: Pick an opportune moment 10 or so years from now and warn the boys about the dangers of big boobs and blond hair.

Sunday has been semi successful. We managed to go back to the village and have a cycle, this time stopping at the park because it was a nicer day. I found it harder to keep up with BB on foot today, and (rather consistently now) he fell off again when he spotted Maia. I don't think BB is worried about her dad being there because of the old "my dad's bigger than your's" thing, but I've explained that he's on his own if he gets her in any trouble! (I've also pointed out that she is very clearly blond)

BB couldn't possibly swing any higher. Oh, and I'm not doing a Babs on the kids. Then insisted on keeping their jackets on, despite the sunshine. Both of them now know that bright colours make you easier to spot when you're peddling. (I'll make proper bikers out of them yet!)

If there was any turmoil in my day, it was deciding when to eat and travel as I risked upsetting either small bellies, bed times or you know who. I opted to stuff the small bellies early, which worked a treat. The Domestic God in me created a Sunday roast all 4 of us enjoyed, and there's even 2 healthy portions in the freezer for LL.

BB had a spell playing with his take home gift from yesterdays party. He even tried to water his bean with it. I must have filled it about 20 times.

There'll be no pics tomorrow. Got a course, so boys off to MIL. Early start for Shaunie Boy.

Domestic Shaunie came to the fore this morning. All my chores were done, and the kids managed a cycle around the village with LL in the backpack. Now that I've straightened out most of the crap that someone very very far away left me, things are in better shape around here.

That left LL plenty time for a kip before a 2nd birthday party this afternoon. Just what the stay at home dad needs - lots of mums gloating and trotting out the all too predictable "now you'll see how hard it is for us" line. Honestly, I think some of them are hoping that this all goes horribly pear shaped just to show that a man can't possibly do it. I've been stewing on some of this, but I'll leave that rant for another day.....

I didn't take the camera to the party, which is a shame because BB looks strangely similar to Mr Bean on speed when he's on a trampoline. I did take a pic of the kids before we left though, all sporting their Friday night pulling gear. A typical family portrait I suspect - point the camera at the baby and he cries. Middle one is soooo excited he can't hide it. Oldest one has that kind of glaikit fake smile going on. I can't get a decent pic of her at the mo.

Friday - The New Monday?

No end of week pick me up for Shaunie Boy this week. A morning which consisted of listening to a gaggle of auld hens convincing themselves that motherhood is such a travesty, before heading off on a 2 hour round trip to pick up SS that wasn't made any easier with a diversion that takes out half of Dundee on the way back. Handy at tea time!

A few things stuck out though. Apart from the new mantra of "Why daddy, why? Why? Why? Why? Why daddy? Why?........." we also have a new one. "To the rescue" repeated non stop for as long as he loses the curious feeling. Actually, it's more "Tooooo de yeaaaaaaahscoooooooooooo" - he's not cracked R's yet. Kind of unfortunate given his name.

So, the highlight of my Friday was a) having 3 kids that eat the meal I cooked and b) a trip to Somerfield where I could buy fruit Clubs and my very own selection of fruit and nut biscuits.

The wonder of my self induced high was compounded when MPLST let me know that she can't get to where she's going until Monday, and so is "taking it easy" in a hotel room all weekend. My heart bleeds.

Ip Dip You're It

She really has gone and done it. As I write now, MPLST is probably somewhere over the Med en route to deepest darkest Africa. The client has assured her that it is perfectly safe to travel - things have apparently calmed down to normal but the dust til dawn curfew remains in place. How comforting.

So, from today, until next weekend, it will be my job to post a daily blog for her benefit. Note to wife: I intend doing a better job than you did through my last trip! There should be plenty pics of the boys, though obviously not up to Her Ladyship's standard of photography. Got to go....there is the distinct aroma of keech close by, and for once I can't blame the wife.

Back again, the calmness has descended. Almost time to give a progress report for day 1 before I crash and burn. For those that want to know, I got a text saying MPLST had arrived safe and sound.

LL has, as we thought he would, adjusted just fine to not having mum around. The wee shite didn't want anything to do with me for my first couple of days home, but we're best mates again. I failed the first daddy test tonight though - the poor wee soul fell off the sofa and bust his nose this evening - I should have seen this coming when I donned a white top this morning! At least I'm consistent - BB fell off the couch the first time we were home alone too.

BB and I managed to go and play hide and seek amongst the bales of hay this afternoon.

The cake at the top is MPLST's latest effort - BB is very pleased to be 3.

The weekend promises to be eventful. I pick up SS from school tomorrow afternoon.

Can't wait!

Wrong Wrong Wrong!

That little headline is live on the web as I write.

How many different ways can a watch show them time?
And how many different ways are there to derived sexual pleasure?

Surely the 10 and the 50 should be with the other subject matter?

Have I become a social anorak?

A recent article in the Independent (http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/gadgets-and-tech/news/is-it-a-diary-is-it-an-ad-no-its-a-mummy-blog-1776163.html) hints that MPLST, and myself to a degree, may be bored or even worse, slightly boring. At the risk of alienating huge sections of my army of readers, I really mean it when I say if you don't like my blog, don't bloody read it!

I'm going to get all defensive now and make excuses for forcing my ramblings on the world at large.

I mentioned once that I don't do social networking sites. I don't want to share my life with everyone who knows me, or once knew me even. I have nothing against these sites if that's your cup of tea, they're not all bad. In the last month or so I have even logged on to my wife's Facebook account so that I can view family pictures in other parts of the world (and witnessed some quality bitching too Sharah!) That's about all it's good for though in my humble opinion. It seems I don't mind sharing my life with the whole world by stealth though - and that is the difference.

MPLST and I blog for different reasons I think. I started blogging because it once was a way of passing away long nightshifts at work which involved using the internet and NOT spending money at the same time. I blether about things in general that MPLST and I don't always find time to blether about. I rant because I can, and the blog gives friends and family the chance to keep up with the boys/us if they really want to.

MPLST, on the other hand, blogs partly by way of keeping a diary of milestones and events because that's what she does. If she had time, I'm sure she'd still write a diary every day. But her blog also keeps me more connected to what's going on at home. The fact she can combine it with her passion for photography means I get to see appreciate her efforts when I'm at work, and she can do something she enjoys at the same time.

I don't have a desire to attract consumer freebies - though I can't promise the wife won't try for some after reading that article! (She does love a good freebie). I never even knew there were forums for this apparent "burgeoning community!" I certainly don't think I'm the wittiest man alive - if I was, I wouldn't have a 360 degree view of the horizon 14 days every month.

I think I know most of the people who read my blog, they even admit to enjoying it and often mention it when we talk - and so I'll keep writing it. Boring or not! Auntie Pops for example, doesn't yet have the child bearing hips she'd like to (fine pins though ;-) I find the occasional compliment to ones most avid reader maintains their interest) yet. She is clucking like an auld hen though and I think secretly just wants to know what's life is really going to be like after her wedding. Other readers are just interested in the boys from a distance. I'm sure because they can read from work also encourages their interest. Let's face it, web surfing is much more fun when you are being paid to do it.

But really, as a modern domesticated dad, I acknowledge that I don't have the time I once did for lifes other pleasures. Football and golf take up a disproportionate amount of time. My kids are too young to come biking with me. MPLST and I used to travel, but it's hardly practical dragging young kids around the globe. So I find myself either working or doing the daddy thing. Let's face it, oilrigs are pretty boring, so I blether about the other thing. MPLST and I have even noted that our conversation these days revolves around work or kids. Must try harder!

My own rather IT phobic mother says my blog is a lot of nonsense - such a typically Guyanese response (even if it is right). My MIL likes to keep up with the lads and us too, because despite what you may think, we talk about other things when we see her.

That explains the lack of MIL jokes and sordid sex stories too then!

Happy Birthday Wee Man

I can literally remember what I was doing this time a year ago. That's because LL was born at 2.57am, and I distinctly remember the events of the preceding few hours. I won't elaborate in case it puts the more squeamish fathers to be off the whole childbirth thing....

LL obviously won't miss me any more that he would (or wouldn't as the case may be) any other day. MPLST will be at her domestic best today though as she gets the house ship shape for the annual mother in law inspection! Think Maree from Everybody Loves Raymond.

The daddy in me should be more gutted about missing the 1st birthday milestone, but I've come to realise that it won't matter for another couple of years. BB is getting excited about his for the first time - it's his 3rd in two weeks. I still wish I was home though.

Aside from birthdays, I'm told that the combine harvester has been in the field next to our house today. Now THAT, I wish I was home for - and not just to share with BB.

Boys will be boys.

Last Day Blues

That's it! Well, almost. I'm back to work tomorrow, and that extra week I offered my services for now seems like a really stupid thing to have done. Next week LL will be one - let's see if anyone saves me some cake!

MPLST has only been back at work for 3 days - when I get home to being full time daddy, I have a feeling I'll be totally shattered after week 1. Speaking of which MPLST isn't holding back on the work front - 2 days after I get back she's sodding off to Gabon for a week. Oh the joys.

On the bright side, LL and I had some rare QT this morning when BB was at playgroup. It struck me that the two of us have had very little one on one time, which explains to some degree why he's much more of a mummy's boy that his elder brother. Not to mention we've still not had the blood test to establish that he's definitely mine.

As promised, I even managed a pic to let mum see what we've been up to. A bit of peek a boo this morning -

And later, BB showing off his prized broad bean plant which has been drowned at every opportunity. Doesn't it show!

One in a Million

As most parents will know, it is frustrating as hell when a tantrum comes for no apparent reason. It's equally frustrating that you know the said tantrum may last a couple of hours despite your efforts to stop it. And then, when they finally do snap out of it, it's like it never happened and you wonder quite what all the fuss was about.

BB, like the average 2 year old, can be a serious pain in the arse when he want to be. When it suits him, he has the mood swings of a pre menstrual woman (though admittedly he's easier to figure out).

He always, no matter what, snaps out of them at bed time. There is something about the bed routine of bath, milk, brushing teeth, story, kiss and cuddle that makes him as happy as can be. I wish I could bottle it and sell it, because not 10 minutes earlier tonight, he almost went into one - but as it always does, bedtime has been the cure. It's a pretty good feeling when he grabs me behind the ears and pulls me in for his equivalent of a bear hug. At no other point in any day, be it Xmas or birthday or after bribery of the highest order to I get a bozie that measures up to the last one of the day.

Despite all that, the tantrums seem to becoming less as we come to understand each other more. Now I just need to figure out his mother....

Give Me Strength

MPLST was at a toddler group committee meeting the other night. On her return, I asked (because I am interested in these things!) what was discussed. Answer: not a lot, but cleaning of the toys came up again.

Well you can count me out of that says I! I'm of the opinion that germs help develop healthy immune systems - within reason of course. It's not like these toys are filthy, in fact they are kept pretty damn clean - probably cleaner than the toys in my living room.

How wrong was I? This morning, whilst enjoying a cup of coffee, I was handed a pack of Flash wipes. Turns out, all the toys were getting cleaned during this session. Why is it that people need a sterile environment for kids to play in these days? So, rather than moan like the grumpy old man I really am, I played along for a little while before ignoring everyone and drinking more coffee. After all, my other half is at work - if you can't go to "mother" and toddlers and drink coffee, when else can you do it?

But it got worse. I had thought that this was just the annual declaration of war on the bugs that infest all the toys we let our kids play with, prompted by a local mum who is never without her supply of anti bacterial handwipes. But no - it's partially at least down to the dreaded Swine Flu. I heard someone saying that the soft toys couldn't be cleaned with the wipes, and so no one was to play with them until further notice. This because it was apparently along the lines of guidance that local nurseries have been given. I wanted to scream NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I think when (rather than if) the pigs get there own back for all the bacon butties we've consumed in these parts, the poor buggers who get it first will be treated like Lepers by the local community.

Isn't it....

....about time she brought home a wage??

MPLST returned to work this morning. I find myself easing myself back into the role of chief cook and bottle washer, as I only have 3 days of this on my own before I go back to work. I expect it will be a bit harder on my return but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I also expect I should post the odd pic of the boys on the blog given that's how I get to keep up when I'm not here. I don't quite have the eye she does, and I certainly can't be hooped with all the editing that she does, but I'll make some effort occasionally. Otherwise I'll do what I do best - the boring practical stuff.

Whilst I'm here, I'll share an amusing conversation between BB and mum yesterday morning. It went something like this:

Note: BB was in full morning glory as he was taking his PJ's off.

BB (smiling the innocent smile of a 2 year old boy): My willy is big Mummy.

Mum: Is it really?

BB: I like it when my willy is big.

Not really much you can say to that, is there?

Careful What You Wish For

Those are Lesley Ash's. We now have a set just like that at home - they look even more bizarre on a 2 year old.

Yesterday, as you will recall I was carefree and cavalier regarding just how bumped and bruised my little boys should get. In fact, I think I uttered something very close to "If our boys reach 18 and have never had a trip to A&E, I'll be extremely disappointed because they won't have had a proper childhood" to my better half. If you've not worked it out already, this came back to bite me on the arse today.

BB landed face first today after the most spectacular fall from a toddlers ride on toy (thankfully not his new bike, as I can't afford another divorce!) He managed to give himself quite a nasty gash on his top lip, and managed to bleed over several people. Note to self: don't wear nice new tee shirt to mother and toddlers in the misguided hope of new yummy mummies coming along! It required a trip to the hospital, where my brave little soldier let the nurse cut of the remaining flaps of skin from inside his top lip. I swear I could sense his mother drilling the "I told you so" through the back of my thick skull.

To make matters worse, later this afternoon he has fallen down some stairs, fallen out of the (stationary) car and tripped on some gravel. I'm awaiting a call from social services any minute.

It's Just a Period We're Going Through?

Being a child of the 80's, I was never one for protective helmets when riding your push bike. It was all rather gay to be honest. I recall, not too long ago mocking a good friend of mine for using one on his morning cycle along the beach front. But of course, as a product of the 80's I was able to ride my bike on the road, use hand signals and even venture out of my mother's direct line of sight for an afternoon and yet I never did die on my bike.

That said, I'm always prepared to live and learn. I later graduated onto proper bikes with engines. Rather unfortunately, I had an accident which resulted in a cyclist (who needless to say wasn't wearing a helmet either) suffering serious head injuries. Aside from being in the wrong place at the wrong time, the poor bugger didn't do much wrong. Lesson learned on my part.

Alas, since then I have worn head gear. As a responsible parent, I also insist the kids wear them too. But today MPLST took it too far. She was talking about elbow pads, knee pads and gloves for BB. Jesus Christ woman, he's going to ride a bike on the road, not down Ben Nevis. It's a push bike for heavens sake. I swear I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd found a use for a bloody fanny pad as well!

Proper boys should have bumps, grazes, bruises and the odd gash otherwise they are not being proper boys. Headgear is reasonable. Even gloves (all bikers know that the first thing that gets damaged when you far off is your mitts). But full body armour is taking it too far.

A Game of Two Halves

It's SS's birthday today. Yet another one that has slipped by where I have not managed to talk to her - never mind see her. I could go on and on, but what's the point?

On the other hand, we made BB as happy as can be today by caving in an buying him his well earned bike. I can only imagine that tomorrow will bring an even higher level of elation as I built it after he went to bed tonight. Come to think of it, I'm sure some shrink somewhere might read a lot in to me buying on of my lads a nice gift on my daughters birthday. Hey ho.

I Want to Ride My Bicycle

Firstly, I shall apologise for sounding like one of those "my son is better than yours" dads. I really really can't stand people bragging about what their kids achievements and expecting everyone else to follow suit. Only last week, some mum was telling me that I should get our youngest on the potty because her boy is using it at 13 months. Well, whoop-dee-fucking-doo and good for you misses, but no thanks.

It's not going to stop me this time though. Today, 2 months short of his 3rd birthday, BB rode his bike (well, actually his sisters) without any stabilisers. You might remember the post I wrote about the Likeabike (there's still a link), well it's turned out to be a great buy. Boyo has sussed balance and, with the exception of trying bikes in shops, has never used stabilisers at all.

Poor bugger is determined to get a bike of his own, and so is busy proving "I am good at it Daddy!" His feat was made even more impressive as the conjunctivitis has returned, and he could hardly see where was was going.

Having taught two kids who did it different ways, I can only urge everyone to bin the stabilisers. You can buy similar bikes cheaper than those on the link. All I know is BB did in 20 mins today what it took me 3/4 1 hour sessions with his almost 5 year old sister to achieve.

Here's another top tip. It might seem obvious. Don't try running alongside your child on a bike the same day you get back from a music festival. It's seriously tiring!

Note to Self

Who'd ever have thought me of all people would become a workaholic? I can assure you, not anyone who has had the misfortune to be described as a colleague, that's for sure. Don't get me wrong, I have always taken a certain pride in my work, but up until now it's always been more about quality than quantity.

But this new job (it's not so new any more) has got me rushed of my feet, and I'm a bit disappointed to admit that I actually like it. Prefer it even. Job satisfaction - I thought it was just another meaningless phrase.

So, why am I banging on about work on my daddy blog. Well, this trip I have got sucked deeper and deeper in to the job. So much so that I made two unforgivable mistakes. Firstly, I started making plans to do some office work when MPLST and I already have plans next week. Secondly, I offered my services to my former boss as he needs bodies to complete some work in September - only to realise that by doing so, I was missing one of the boys birthday. What a right plonker.

Both have been fixed, and I shall be spending the required time at home with wife and kids, instead of kissing arse and progressing my career (I had a job only 8 months ago - now I've got a bloody career!?!)

It's a shame that the Mrs had to point it out though.

Must try harder.

Here We Go Again

It's coming up to that time again. MPLST is about to return to work, leaving me, quite literally, holding the baby.

It's not all that bad though. Here's the script. She was supposed to go back in a few months, but a gift horse came a looking her in the mouth. Part time work, around my shifts on a decent wage - hence she's returning slightly earlier than planned - offers like that don't come every day. I guess it's the perfect scenario for a returning to work mum.

Who benefits? BB and LL, because for the most part, they'll have either mum or dad at home, so they won't be dependant on a third party carer. Who suffers? Mum and dad! Mum will do 2 weeks child care, followed by 2 weeks work, with a day off per week roughly. Then another 2 weeks childcare, before working for 4 weeks with a day off again per week. Tiring stuff. Dad will do 2 weeks work, followed by 2 weeks childcare. Then he'll come back to work for a rest, and gee himself up for another 4 weeks of domestic bliss as chief cook and bottle washer. I foresee much sleepiness from the adults in the months ahead.

Obviously, it's not for everyone. Most of the guys at work struggle to get their heads around it. In fact, one of the lads, about my age, with 2 young kids is in the same boat. His wife is returning to work, but one day per week. He's insisted it's a Wednesday because his mother is off then, and he doesn't want childcare interfering with golf.

Twat!

Arrrgh!

I feel another rant coming on.

I heard a wee snippet on the news today about somebody wanting to ban something. Nothing surprising in that.

Here's a link to the story http://news.scotsman.com/aberdeen/39Ban-overtaking-of-school-buses39.5250742.jp

Whilst it is all very sad and unfortunate that these kids were killed, I really want to scream at these morons "Don't ban overtaking......teach the kids the green cross fucking code!"

Mind you, I can see why Blunkett would support it though.

Half Way There

When I was at primary school, I distinctly remember being told that life expectancy for men was three score and ten. I also distinctly remember thinking that the year 2000 seemed as distant as a diplidocus. I wanted to be a policeman when I grew up and to play for Scotland, yet my footballing ability never quite matched my footballing ambitions. I even remember checking in my wardrobe, under the bed and even out in the linen cupboard on the landing for monsters, ghosts and bogey men before I went to bed. I longed to be 17 so I could drive, 18 so I could drink in a pub, and well....old enough to shave and have a hairy chest too.

Driving is ok. Family cars are boring though.
Drinking is ok, but over rated (those who knew me as a youthful twenty something will be spitting out their coffee at this point)
Shaving sucks.
I have the chest hair of a pubescent boy.

All of that counts for nothing I have come to realise. What's important when your 7 is playing football for every waking moment. And 8, and probably 9 and 10 too. Girls start to creep in about 11 I think. Kissing them, and in front of all your mates too, becomes more important than life itself. By the time you're a teenager, you'll shag a barber's floor if it'll get that particular monkey off your back. For a long while, ones footballing ambitions are matched only by his sexual ambitions, and ones ambitions and ones capabilities seem destined never to align on both fronts.

But what's important when you're 35? Well, I don't bloody know because technically, I've only been 35 for about an hour and a half I think. I've spent the day of my 35th on an oil rig, working for an absolute tit (and I have worked for many but we're talking Jordan here) of a man. I even bought the mars bars and coke for the lads, as is the unwritten rule. So, no cards (with good excuses too!), no beer and £30 down? Way to go Shaunie Boy.
To top that off, MPLST is at a wedding today. Not the kind of wedding where one is secretly glad to be offshore, but one of good friends, and I'd much rather have been there. Oh, and whilst I'm moaning, I'm out here for Chrimbo too this year!! Should have been a bloody bobby.

But I digress. The same teacher who told us about three score and ten, also told us that, statistically, at least 1 out of our class wouldn't make adulthood. He wasn't wrong either. It's a damn shame it was one of the good guys (it always is). So, it's not all bad - there are worse places to be than oilrigs.
I reckon I can settle for being a 35 year old husband, and a father of 3. For now, at least! I've not been to the docs yet!

By the way, the monster was cunning. It wasn't in the linen cupboard or the wardrobe, it was in the bloody bed right next to me for 10 years. Some boys are slow on the uptake.

Bollocks To That

My good lady (the one who's gone and binned her boys for the weekend) and I have often considered whether or not we have contributed sufficiently to the population. We remain unsure.

Until now. The end result of one weekend as a single dad of 3 is that I'm calling the docs on Monday morning!

Who's the Mug?

I can't believe that's nearly a month already. Where the hell did it go?

MPLST is off with the girls this weekend, leaving me with our boys. We revelled in leaving the toilet seat up this morning, but this afternoon we picked up SS so even that's out the window now. I'm already tired and crabbit, can't wait til Sunday!

Anyways, I was going to blog endless poor little me crap, but I'm not in the mood. SS's mother has gotten under my skin yet again. I shall take my shoot the bitch attitude elsewhere and return in a better frame of mind hopefully.

A Picture of Health and Happiness

For a change only mum and dad are suffering this week. And that suffering is related to the aging process more than anything else, so there are no bugs, rashes or the like affecting us for a change. Of course, given that BB returned to playgroup after the Easter break just last week, no doubt he'll bring something home to share very soon.

LL's skin seems to have sorted itself out. No wheat intolerance and not dairy intolerance. He is growing like a weed, but the stubborn wee shite won't eat a thing unless it has cream cheese mixed in with it. Apart from getting whiter and blonder, and prompting lots of questions to his parentage, he is in fine fettle. He occasionally sleeps all night too, but very occasionally! The sooner we get his room finished the better in my opinion.

BB has stopped screaming blue murder every time he goes for number 2's. He's stopped holding onto them for as long as well, which in turn makes every day better. Trust me, a constipated 2 year old is harder to live with than any pre menstrual woman I have ever known! Infact, a couple of nights ago he surprised us by wondering to his potty, dropping this trousers and leaving our living room with an odour resembling a cattle farm. It's all progress though, as he is still on the drugs to keep him regular. The eyes are fine now too.

Mum is off doing her turn at playgroup for the first time this morning leaving me with the bambino (who is now sleeping hence the update in the blog).
We are off to London this weekend without the kids.
Goodluck grandma. Don't call before 11am please.

Men, Babies and Toddlers

It's a known fact (between my ears at least), that men don't really do babies until they are toddlers. Women get all emotional when they are born - even if someone else is having the baby! Men don't quite understand, and probably never will, why women refer to little pink (or occasionally brown) bundles of wrinkles as "cute" or "gorgeous" or perhaps even "beautiful." The bare facts of the matter are that babies are eating, shitting and sleeping machines. Few are pleasant on the eye, and most look the same for the first 3 months anyway.

Toddlers, on the other hand are brilliant. Despite the lack of milk in my moobs, I have a function in the life of the toddler. He can be thrown around all day long. We can do puzzles together. We can even hide in the corner of the garden and have a sneaky biscuit together and not tell mum. We can go out an play on our bikes like proper kids. It's brilliant.

I've really noticed a difference in BB this week. I know it won't last long, but the tantrums are ever decreasing, and more often than not he will actually do what he's told. He's walked for miles without argument. He's showing the kind of affection to his little brother that would bring a tear to a glass eye. Mornings are easy, bedtimes are fun. He even ate a pile of greens the other night because dad "made them crunchy."

If I can spend the next two and a half years training the wife to this high standard, we'll live happily ever after....

Childsplay

In a manner of speaking, tonight is my trial run with the boys. MPLST is off out and not returning until tomorrow morning. I've not done the bedtime routine with two since BB was a nipper and even then, that was on the rare occasion SS was here. The extra year age gap between her and BB made things much more simple.

Not to worry though. We've coped admirably (if I may say so), and apart from one small incident where I caught BB's finger in a door just before bedtime, and there are no deaths to report. BB will be good until I get up tomorrow, I'd bet your mortgage on that, however, I do foresee a mid sleep wake up to feed the little white one. Bollocks, that'll be the second time in four nights....then again, it's also just the second time in eight months. Not bad really.

Anyhoos, kids are fed, watered and bedded.
Ironing in done.
Washing machine is emptied - I spotted it was full all on my ownsome.
Next lot of washing is primed and ready to go tomorrow morning.
Clothes are looked out for tomorrow morning as we have mother (parent!) and toddlers first thing). Even a spare set for LL.
Dishes are washed.
And I still watched the snooker.

So what is it exactly all these mum's find hard about this?

Maybe I'll find out in a couple of weeks - I've got 3 of them for a whole weekend on my own.

SPIK PROPER MIN!

Dinna worry, Ah'm no died. Ah ken it's been a wee while since Ah blogged n'at, but ye ken foo it is. We've been buildin a playframe fur the bairns aw week since Ah got hame, then SS graced us wi her presence this weekend tae.

Anyhoos, the real reason ahhind this blog....ma brither came up wi his wife n bairns the day, along wi ma maw and step faither anaw. It wis fine, cos they brocht dinner wi them - eywiz a bonus that. Me ind him wis brocht up in deepest darkest Fife, ind Ah kin Ah've goat an awfy strong accent. Ah'm evin mair aware o it, cos Ah moved awaw, ind Ah've picked up bits n boabs fi whaur Ah've been ind fae whaur Ah wurk tae.

Noo, Ah'm faur fae posh, but fur Christ's sake, kin yae no spik proper tae the bairns?? Ma wee brither must hink Ah've got ma heid stuck up ma ain arse when Ah get ontae him aboot how he spiks tae ma bairns. Ah've been made even mair aware o ma ain shortcomings this week as BB repeats the odd phrase jist like Ah do......but at least Ah'm tryin. Ma bairns hiv got the potential tae soond like Fifers crossed wi Teuchters wi a bit o Dundonian chucked in tae, no furgettin the West Indian bit anaw!! How thick wid they soond on a quick news snippet if Ah didnae try and teach them tae spik richt?

So, to clarify.....I am not being a snob. I would just like my children to be able to pronounce
their words clearly and eloquently.

Thur's nu'hin wrang wi that surely?

Over Reactions

It's not every day you get some common sense prevailing from the US of A. Now, don't get me wrong, I am no racist - I have no problem with Pakis, Paddys, Ragheads, FEBs, Gooks, Wogs, Niggers, Blacks, Spics, Spooks or even Sambo's. In fact, I've been referred to as several of that list over the years, but I digress, and there is a but!

I openly admit, I really really have to make efforts listening to Americans. I'm not sure if it's simply because they gave us G W Bush? Perhaps it's that they gave us McDonalds? Maybe it was the compensation culture, which is now so prevalent over here? It could be because every single Yank seems to think that they rule the world? Or maybe, it's just because. But, nevertheless, the following article stems from a lady from the US of A. She talks an amazing amount of sense, I wonder if it'll catch on?

http://freerangekids.wordpress.com/2009/04/11/learning-the-wrong-lessons-from-sandra-cantus-death/

It must have got out by stealth.

More money than sense?

Another example of a world gone mad.

MPLST and her friends were chewing over the whole private school debate, as many of them have already decided that their offspring will attend such grand institutions. I'm told the conversation went like this.

Given that the demand for places is high, it makes it easier to get a place in such a high school, if one's child was taught in the feeder primary school. I can see that, it makes sense. It also follows that it makes it easier to get into the primary school if one's child progresses from that particular institutions nursery. Apparently, the affluent north east of Scotland remains unaffected by the current global financial meltdown.

Ok, I'm starting, like you are, to see a pattern emerging here. But it gets even worse. The same rule of thumb applies to anti pre-school nursery. And the test to get your aged three pride and joy into the school in question? They must be able to draw a picture of a butterfly and sing a song, presumably not at the same time. A bit bizarre for my liking, but there you have it. Probably not a challenge even for the slowest of three year olds, provided of course, they are in the mood to draw pictures and sing songs. I can just see it now, we arrive for the interview promptly with BB in his finest grey shorts and knee length socks, sporting the Eton flick, only for him to decide, nah....I'm being shy today. Oh, and they charge you £50 for the interview too.....I suppose it would keep out the trash right enough.

And it gets worse still. There is more than one example locally, where young Farquhar has shown the early promise, but by the time primary school starts, he turns out to be more of a Freddie. What happens here? The school tell mummy and daddy, sorry, there is no place for your little Freddie, you'll have to find another school. Just like that. What they are actually saying is Freddie's place has gone to a family who clearly breeds a more intelligent specimen than you two do.

And this threat I suppose, lingers from one stage to the next, because of course the school needs the brightest kids to rank highly in the league tables.