Shared Finish

You would be forgiven for thinking that the term "shared finish" would perhaps be a personal goal between the sheets for two consenting adults. Of course, it may well be, but apparently, it's also a term used in primary schools where parents can share the finish of a day, which serves to let them see just how good (or bad I suppose) their offspring are doing at school.

It's good for the non resident parent, ie. part time dad in this case to be invited to such days. It means things are working in the right direction with regard to SS and I. She spend the last hour or so of her school week showing off her reading skills to me, and generally showing me around the open plan primary 1 area, which has 3 classes. Who the hell would want to teach primary 1 in their right mind? I have a fresh new admiration for primary school teachers.

Playgroup

More like trench bloody warfare I'd say. Don't you just love the fact that they present this image of the children all playing happily together or listening intently to a story? I found out today that's all a big fat porkie pie.

Today was my first time "on duty" at the local playgroup, which depends on parental assistance to function. Since nursing mothers can be excused for 6 months, not to mention I am the kind of dad that partakes in this nonsense, I offered up my services today. We arrived bright and early for a fun filled morning of painting, singing and of course snacking too.

As I have come to expect, in every group of people, there is a nuisance. Why I would have expected 2 and 3 year olds to be any different, I have no idea. It did come as a surprise to me that not all kids do what they are told though. Not even at the fifteenth time of asking....

Thankfully, Julie, the other parent helper has far more patience than I do with kids other than her own. She managed to "encourage" one particular little shit to "switch on his listening ears" throughout the whole morning. Personally, I could have swung for the little swine, and that was less than an hour in.

I did get, and still have on my tee shirt, a nice big good boy sticker for washing and drying the dishes though. I think BB was very proud of his dad.

Morons!

A few days behind the times, but better late than never so they say.

At the back end of last week, I was listening to this story on Radio 2 (another sign of old age creeping in!) news - http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/manchester/7830706.stm

What really really winds me up about this, is how the cheeky buggers he calls parents can seriously consider legal action. I can imagine the worry and fear they'll go through over the next year until he gets the all clear (hopefully), but that doesn't explain why they let him go wandering off in a doctors surgery. They should count themselves lucky they weren't done for neglect. Ok, both extremes are a little too American for my liking, but let's face it, the parents have only got themselves to blame.

I know you can't keep an eye on them 24/7, but the responsibility when they do get in harms way should lie with mum or dad, unless circumstances are extreme. I mean, a member of staff didn't give him the bloody needle to suck. Bins get full - even in health centres.

The Perfect Age Gap

Right, I know one or two of MPLST's friends will perk up at this, as they are around the 30 mark and clucking like auld hens. That's you Pops!

According to Sarah Ebner in this article http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/families/article5525024.ece it's not an exact science. No shit Sherlock!

Our two year gap has worked out a treat - at this early stage at least. Well, for the boys it's been a treat, for us it's been mayhem, but I think that would have been the same if we'd had number two +/- 12 months. We've worked hard on how we parent, and generally let everything else fall by the wayside. BB has coped better than we had hoped with the arrival of his little brother, which is probably more than can be said for his parents.

Of course, like us, most of our friends are running out of healthy child bearing years, assuming they don't want to be working until they are 95 of course.

Hurry Home Daddy

Happy New Year!
Better late than never I suppose.
Those 3 little words have been the highlight of my week.