Super Fun Christmas Day Out (Without Me)

Tomorrow the wee man is being taken to see donkeys and Santa. This will be his first visit to see good old St. Nick and depending on his reaction it may be his last.

Now I'm not really an animal person (real animals like bears and wolves are interesting but farmyard stuff then no) nor am I a Christmas person except for my CD of Medieval carols and Home Alone 1 + 2 so I have managed a dodge this particular outing. I have been aware of this Christmas fun day for a while so from the outset I declined going as it would give me a chance to have some child free time. There have been last minute attempts from The Chancellor and my mum to get me to come but I have kept the battlements well stocked with soldiers and I've resisted. My defences will not be broken and with the spirit of all the English Kings I will sit on the sofa, put my hand down my pants and watch Saturday afternoon football.

I have seen some pictures of some of the wee man's little friends sitting on the lap of a Santa and some don't look overly excited but maybe a second later they will burst into laughter and have a wonderful time. Or they burst into tears to a have a life long crushing phobia about fat men. I hope it isn't the latter and they enjoy Christmas every year. I'm sure the presents would distract them anyway.

Some other parents I know have been a bit unsure of sitting their children on the knee of Santa including me. But that is because Christmas time brings out the best in SUPER CYNICAL MAN! Don't talk to strangers but you can sit on one's lap if he has a beard and a red hat. I am a Grinch but I do loosen my ways when on Christmas day I drink and eat loads of meat. In the truest of styles.

So I hope the wee man isn't scarred for life or scared by a strange man his little helpers. If he is then it's SUPER CYNICAL MAN to the rescue where I can tell him all about when Oliver Cromwell banned Christmas and the world seemed a happier place.


jpr  

The Wee Man Turns One!!!

Today the wee man turns one so I say to you happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you... yada yada yada.

Between us, The Chancellor and I have managed to keep him alive for 365 days which has to be, by far, my greatest achievement since completing Zelda: Ocorina of Time for the N64 games console. In this time we both have had roughly six months each with him and I can’t claim to have taught him anything important except for patting his hand to his mouth to sound like a Warrior Indian or saying the word ‘egg’. I’m not sure I can pretend, with this, to have built on the solid groundwork that The Chancellor laid down in those formative months.

But there have been a couple of important things which I have exposed him to in my period of residency.

Firstly, Rachel Riley...err I mean Countdown. It’s all about the education in our house. I’ll keep telling myself that. But Countdown has given me the most endearing thing I have ever seen in my life. When the thirty second countdown begins the wee man begins to dance in time with the beat. It is a wonderful sight to see but I think he dances better than me, which isn’t hard.

Secondly, Prime Ministers’ Question time. This is our avid Wednesday lunchtime viewing. Most children get cartoons the wee man gets intense political debate. I’m not sure this interests him as much as Waybuloo does but he will get used to it and it might teach him a thing or two about being liberal with the truth. This might make the teenagers years difficult. There are a number of other things including free jazz but that is far too pretentious to write about so I won’t make myself sound like an idiot. If I haven’t already.

Anyway tonight a few glasses of wine will be raised to my ace son. And only another 17 years left until I can charge him rent or kick him out.

jpr  

Always Read The Small Print

Somewhere I think in my marriage vows it must say 'As a husband you are obliged to go anywhere your wife asks, even if it so mindlessly boring that you will use 70% of your battery life on your mobile phone in half an hour'. That's the small print. Written in such minute lettering that you need at least two magnifine glasses to see it.

The Chancellor used this small print to drag me shopping with her and my Mum today. The wee man got out of most of it by sleeping for a good hour and a half, tucked up in his new cosey toes thing for his pushchair. He saw it coming and had the right idea. I had alerted him of what was to come during a conversation this morning. Despite him not being able to say anything apart from 'eggs' (this is a new thing) there was a cosmic male bonding moment where he said "Yep Dad I totally get you, I'll just sleep through the worst of it and see where we are when I wake up".

I was not so lucky and as we strolled through a freezing city centre I contemplated climbing into the buggy to join him. Logistically tricky but worth a shot nonetheless. I managed to break free the shackles of oppression and run off for 10 mins but was quickly reeled back in and I returned to following the oligarchs two steps behind. Democracy had deserted me in my hour of need.

In a moment of civil unrest though I put my foot down and said I was going to Starbucks and no one could stop me. Power to the people and capitalism. Then, a God somewhere smiled on me and said "Jamie I understand your hardship, here, I give you a German sausage stall at the German Christmas Market!"Ace! So in a matter of seconds I destroyed a foot long sausage and bun with such glee it made the previous hour worth it. The silver lining was joyous as was the mustard and ketchup additions. So the moral here is don't despair the Germans will be there to help you!  

jpr

Is That A Log In The Bath?

We haven't had a bathroom incident for a while. The wee man seemed to have grown out them. You're probably wondering what a bathroom incident is, I'll tell you. As you know if you have been reading the blog recently, we are stationed at the moment at my parent's house. We have decided to stay longer as we can't face debt, a damp flat and noisy neighbours. We can just suspend reality for a while.

So last night, at bath time, was the first opportunity we had had to use the wee man's new bath time toy. It's great, it's a turtle that says stuff and plays music and lights up. The wee man throughout the bath seemed a bit out of sorts. We just thought it was because he was somewhere slightly different and he just hadn't quite adjusted yet. As bath time passed I was having more fun with his new turtle that he was. Then after chewing on a crab for a while he stood up, steadied himself and promptly had a massive poo in my parents' bath. It wasn't a runny poo no it was a full double sausage poo that floated off and touched all his bath toys. After emptying his bowels the wee man perked up and started to kick the bath water about. Seeing that this would end badly for all of us I quickly pulled him from the bath leaving the offending bowel movement to continue floating around.

My Father having watched the offending incident said that he would not use the bath for at least two days. The Chancellor and I apologised profusely for our son and luckily my parents (well my Mum) didn't mind. But it was just another job for us to disinfect all the wee man's bath toys. 

I have for the last two blog posts been giving you pictures but I think with this you wouldn't have liked a picture of what the bath looked liked. You are just going to have to visualise it and even then I probably wouldn't recommend it. Bath time looms on the horizon tonight and I don't want to have to do all that cleaning again. Will lady luck shine upon me tonight?

jpr  

His First Shoes

I love shoe shopping...and coat shopping and man bag shopping and accessory shopping. If this makes me slightly feminine then so be it but I do have a rather excellent collection of coats and jackets so I don't care. Anyway today we went to measure the wee man for his first pair of shoes. This is a truly momentous day and a very proud one for The Chancellor and I.

The wee man couldn't have been any better as he let some strange woman measure his feet. He sat quietly and calmly not flinching or really caring about what was going on around him. So he says a big thank you to his Grandmother who has paid for his new footwear.

We chose a pair with dinosaurs on which are very cute and also very cool. He now looks like a real little boy tottering around the place in his new pumps. We were scared for a moment in the shop as he kept going back to a pair of sparkly pink shoes. No matter how many times we lured him away back he went for the sparkles, does he want to be a female ballet dancer or just female?

Just to be clear that neither is a bad thing as I am very liberal but my son will be growing up to be a professional footballer so ballet doesn't really fit. I intend to live vicariously through him as my footballing career was cut short by a bad knee injury and more importantly a lack of real footballing talent. The real great ones have it in the head but not on the pitch. That's what I like to tell myself.

I have discovered only yesterday how to insert pictures into my posts so here is another picture after yesterday's shot of The Chancellor's arm. Did you like the arm? It's a good arm.

 How cool are these? And how arty is my shot? As the wee man has now decided to sleep I couldn't get a picture with him in the shoes so you will just have to imagine little legs sticking out of them.


jpr

 

Birthday Bash

The wee man is indeed a lucky man. Today at his birthday bash he was inundated with a vast array of expensive and fabulous toys and gifts. Wonderful wooden toys, clothes, money (that I'm not allowed) and new bath toys that will make bath time so much more fun. The Chancellor and I feel very touched that we have so many nice friends and family who care so much about the wee man. Blub, blub, blub. Sorry I'll just wipe that tear away.

In return for the toys and adulation the wee man was in fine form, flirting, smiling, laughing and dancing. He even managed a half hour nap while there was so much going on in the room. Top man. We couldn't have asked for anything better really and we are now all cream crackered except for the wee man who is buzzing around the place at full speed. Glancing at my watch I think it maybe a while before he is in bed. Even if he is up in the middle of the night I will grant him leeway as he has been so good today, I will just endure a torrid night if he is up.   

There you go as a treat I have included a picture of the wee man's birthday cake, aren't I nice? And what a lovely glimpse of The Chancellor's arm. I 'm going to go and sit down now and hopefully sleep a deep and undisturbed sleep. Ta ta.

jpr

 

The Birthday Week Is Upon Us

If there is one place you don't want to be with a frustrated child it's stuck in the middle of a traffic jam on one of England's busiest motorways with another hour to go before you reach your destination. The Chancellor not only had to deal with the wee man but also with me moaning about the traffic, rubbish drivers and the treacherous fog that fell over the car.

One Man and a Wee Bairn has taken its unique brand of witterings and moanings on the road this weekend for the wee man's first birthday party. We have traveled down to Leeds for a weekend with the family and friends and hopefully some relaxation. Despite his birthday actually being on Thursday we are celebrating 365 days alive because not everyone can make a party in the middle of the week. So it will be a ripping party to fully celebrate a first birthday. Things are already rip roaring as while I am writing this the wee man is being inflicted, by his Grandad, to a version of Shakespeare's Falstaff with the sub-woofer on full. This not only over stimulates the wee man but pisses off my mum who continually shouts at him to turn the television down. A sign of things to come this weekend I think.

But it should be a wonderful weekend of celebrations with the family and some very close friends, all of whom have been so incredibly generous with their time and money. The only problem though with the weekend is that we have no room in the car to bring back all the presents we imagine we will get for him. After packing the car so full to the brim for the way down we joked about what it would be like to have another child. Joked maybe not quite the right word, worried might be more fitting. We would have to upgrade to a 4X4 or some kind of mini bus which would cost the earth. How Multi Mum and Multi Dad do it is beyond me. I can barely travel with one let alone four. Anyway no moaning this weekend, celebration awaits.


jpr

   

I Hate My Neighbours

I dislike my neighbours. I really do and let me explain why. We live in a downstairs flat (apartment if you're American. By the way hello to all my American readers). The flat is actually quite big because of the room sizes and ceiling heights. It's a really nice place and we love that it is over 100 years old with lots of quirky features.

About six months ago three lads moved into the flat upstairs. To say they are heavy footed is an understatement but this isn't my problem with them. Last night was the second night in a row that the wee man has slept through after a week or so of broken nights. Last night was also the night the lads upstairs decided to have a party. They were still going at 04:28 when they woke me and The Chancellor up. This isn't the first time they've had a party and last time even came round the next morning to apologise. I told them that if it happens again I can't save them from my wife when she comes round to kick them in the balls. They looked genuinely scared.

The area we live in is a family area away from the student areas of the city which is one reason why we chose to live here. So we really don't appreciate living below three students. For a time they had a treadmill and when they used to do their exercise the pictures on our walls used to shake and I thought for a while that they would fall through the ceiling. An hour of thudding that sounds like we're being bombed sent me slightly deranged.

Surprisingly the wee man doesn't seem to care about the noise and luckily hasn't woken up once with their continual noise. It just really annoys me and The Chancellor and it wakes us up. I have vowed that if they wake the wee man up I will go round drag them from their home and make them spend a night with a crying baby just to see what it's like. Once they spend a night with a crying baby they will never make a noise again.


jpr

Whatever Tony The Tiger Says Must Be True

First off the usual Thursday admin. If you go to http://www.baby.co.uk/mum_stories/fathers-of-the-world-unite/ you will find this Thursday's blog for Baby Centre. Also if you feel the need to comment on it then please do, even if you comment with other Smiths' lyrics that is fine and I will think you are very cool.  

So to today and what a difference a good nights sleep makes. After a quiet night, I like Tony The Tiger says feel ggrrrreat!There is an extra spring in my step and an extra step in my stride. The wee man too seems less tired and whingey and has a broader smile on his face.We're like a new family. Will it all change tonight? I'm not saying anything. I'm not tempting any fates or even making the merest hint that it might happen. I will leave it to the will of the Gods.

We also feel energised today after singing songs this morning about living on an iceberg for forty years and other weird subject matter.The music group is very fun but I wonder where they came up with some of the lyrics for their songs. The group, as well as sometimes confusing me, also gives the wee man the perfect opportunity to practice his new found love of dancing. And as we drove home, playing The Smashing Pumpkins in the car, he rocked away nodding his head and moving his upper body  to the beat of the song. So proud. None of these rubbish nursery rhymes for us.

Next week when we go to Piccolo music it will be the wee man's birthday and he will also have the company of his mother as we dance and sing about creeping jungle animals. As well as the daily blog about it there will be a special birthday edition of The Baby Centre blog where I talk of the importance of Zelda, Rachel Riley and Prime Minister's question time. If you can work out how they link into a post about a first birthday then there is a prize in it for you. If you can't work it out then you will just have to read next week.


jpr
     

A View Of How Things Used To Be

There is something truly wonderful about talking to someone who doesn't have children. They give off this vibe of being totally relaxed about life, mainly because they have had 8 hours plus sleep every night for...forever. They look and sound good too. There are no bags under the eyes, no frayed nerves, no cynicism and no wrinkles. They give you a window into the life you used to have before the sleepless nights. Conversations are wonderfully refreshing too. There is no chat about bottles or formula or when is the right time to do this and that or why are my son's poos so offensive?

Today the wee man and I had lunch with a former work colleague and her fiance. They don't have children of their own yet so the conversations over lunch were more than just baby related. It felt nice to speak of a life away from children. 'You can actually go somewhere without it taking you at least an hour to get ready? You don't smell constantly of nappy sacks and dried baby sick?'

I am not so secretly jealous of their life mainly because at the moment the wee man isn't sleeping at night. Last night was another night of crying. Plus along with the tears the wee man isn't interested in being soothed by me and seems to cry even more until The Chancellor enters the room. As soon as he sees her face he stops the tears and calms down. Rejection of sorts.

He still seems to be happy enough though with spending his days with me. Not sure however how long that will last. Next week though he gets both of us as The Chancellor is taking a holiday and spending 9 days with us. Happiness all around. It can't come soon enough and I might try to convince her to add a few days onto the end of it. Fancy taking a month off or even a year???


jpr

The Cough And My Grumpiness Continue

When I look back in a years time at these posts, I would imagine the vast majority of them will be either about lack of sleep or illness. For as long as I can remember this has what our lives have been about. The wee man has had a cough for at least a couple of months now and it seems to have gotten worse. 

For the last couple of nights the coughing has bothered him so much that he has woken and not wanted to go back to sleep. It would be OK if he just lay there contemplating his baby existence or reading classic literature or writing a novel but he doesn't, he cries and moans keeping us all awake. In the end, last night, The  Chancellor brought him in with us which is something neither of us want as neither of us get any better sleep than if he was just crying in his room. 

I know we are not the only parents who are in this boat as this cough has hit more babies than just ours. But it is like noting has changed in the space of a year and we still have a newborn child. Exhausting. The wee man on the other hand still seems to be as energetic as ever despite hacking away as a result of his 20 a day habit. 

In my grumpiness in the middle of the night I moan that he is the worst baby in our group and as of tomorrow I'm running away with a younger model and will never be found. The Chancellor claims though that she will always find me and make me do my babysitting duty. Shame. As a parent you always have hope that the next night will be better and you might get some sleep. Hope for us has turned into desperation and eventually desperation will turn into lunacy. Tonight I will be praying to any God that will listen that we can get some sleep as if we don't I may not be standing tomorrow. I'm not fussy any God will do.

   jpr

Can You Not Let Your Dog Bark In My Son's Face Please

On a day to day base I seem to attract weird and or annoying people. Or maybe they attract me and think I'm weird. Generally it's people who won't move out of the way on the pavement as I push the buggy past and then they tut at me. People like that. Tedious folk and life would be much easier if they weren't around to annoy me. There seems to be at least one encounter a day.

I encountered such a person today. Ironically this happened while pushing the wee man around the grounds of a psychiatric hospital which is round the corner from my home. The grounds by the way are very pleasant and there are no scary patients wondering around. Anyway as the wee man snoozed away oblivious to anything else in the world a woman let her very big dog come up to the pushchair and bark loudly in the wee man's face. Luckily he woke only for a couple of seconds before returning to his slumber. As you would imagine I was quite annoyed by this and I suggested to the lady that she might want to take her dog away but I was greeted with a blank look and shrug of the shoulders. I shook my head in her face, told her she was an idiot and continued on my way. Poor little man. I would be pissed off if I was woken up with a dog barking in my face.

I could sit here and rant for a while about keeping control of your pets but I can't be bothered. The wee man seems to have an affinity for dogs and I wouldn't want him to get a complex after a meeting with a loud dog. If it happens again I'll call her more than an idiot and I might kick her.



jpr



  

Godparents

The wee man must feel very privileged. He has several very good male role models in his life, including me and his Godfather. Godparents in my family are important and it's very important who you get for the job. So who better for the wee man than a fellow who once shared with me nearly seven and a half bottles of wine in one sitting? Top role models indeed.

This was a time when neither of us had children and as you can imagine the night did not end well for me. The Chancellor discovered me on my back in the bathroom covered in my own vomit claiming that I could clean up the mess. Seeing as I couldn't even sit up this might have been difficult. I woke up the next morning knowing something bad happened but couldn't remember what it was. My punishment for her cleaning me up was a morning of curtain shopping, which nearly killed me and I also remember being close to vomiting in the middle of the John Lewis' curtain department. Top role modelling.

But the role of the Godparent is to teach the child all those things that the parents don't want the child to know; drugs, booze, women, gambling etc. I remember being told rude jokes and snippets of philosophy as a child not quite knowing what they meant but knowing they were important. The memories of watching my father and Godfather getting drunk are etched in my mind. I wonder where we get it from. It would be good to note that my Godfather in the father of the wee man's Godfather. Got that? Good.

The wee man's Godparents are very well travelled his Godmother being from Australia and his Godfather has travelled the world and lived abroad for a good length of time. So who better to teach him about the exciting things that happen in the world. It's an important role for me and hopefully the wee man can go to them with useful the questions in life. Will my parents know if I smoke? Will my parents notice if I'm drunk? Will my parents notice if I get arrested? The answer to all these may be 'Yes but there are ways of hiding it'.


jpr

That Was Not A Fun Road Trip

Yay family day out today yay! Where shall we go? Well in the end nowhere. Through a series of unfortunate events we ended up just driving around the city for nearly an hour.

First off we thought lets go to the museum. This seems easy enough but as we drive through the city centre we forgot it's match day in the city. Newcastle United's ground in right in the city centre and the museum we wanted to go to is right next to the stadium. So we drove around and around and around some more looking for a space but none was to be found, so a fed up me gave up and took an executive decision. Let's go to the the contemporary art gallery on the river front.

OK off we go. I have been here before but ALWAYS take the wrong junction. Today is no different and taking the wrong junction we get lost in not a nice area of Gateshead. All through this The Chancellor is laughing at me for getting lost and the wee man is pissed off that we aren't going anywhere. So after multiple more wrong turns including circling a roundabout a couple of times we end up miles from home. An hour after leaving we end up back home after a really really (un)fun family day out.

But my day is not going to get better as I'm sent to the big supermarket on a Saturday afternoon to do the weekly shop. Never again. Never again will I do this as it's the most awful place to be on a Saturday afternoon and I would have much rather spent the afternoon with the wee man. Luckily my speed and trolley rage enables me to get round quickly even if I've made no friends on the way. I can get a little aggressive under the pressure of supermarket shopping but if it means a speedy exit then that's fine. The wine I snuck home will help me feel better about the toes I ran over today.


jpr

A Weekend Just To Myself? No

This weekend we have some nice stuff planned as a family but I'm also gunning for some time by myself that doesn't involve children, toys, baby food, prams, nappies, napping, bottles and Cebeebies.

Basically if you can think of the most unfamily friendly thing then I want to do it (but nothing sordid, I'll get into trouble). I talked about holidays here yesterday but after some thought and the reveal of my credit card bill today I realise that this could be a bit too hard to sort. So I'm not asking for a holiday or a wild weekend of physical and psychological destruction, all I want is a little bit of non-baby time. I'm sure every stay at home parent will want this this weekend.

Seeing as The Chancellor has just arrived home very early from work, things are looking rosey for me already. Just need to get her drunk now and persude her to take the wee man out for a very long walk tomorrow. Or he can join her wandering around Marks and Spencer's looking at every single things that's in the shop. He needs to learn from a young age that this will be his job in years to come with his wife. If he learns it now then the tedium won't seem as bad in years to come.

On a bright note, last night the wee man decided that sleep was a useful and fun thing to do and returned to a full nights sleep after a few days of protesting. Other babies in the groups had joined his picket line and spent the week awake thinking they knew better than their parents. We will however always quell the masses and return our houses to totalitarian states that they are. Though their protests will probably get harder to crush the older they get. Water cannons at the ready. 


jpr

This Time Two Years Ago We Were In Barcelona...

First off today if you feel the need you can read my Baby Centre blog post for this week. You can find it http://www.baby.co.uk/mum_stories/my-son-seems-to-have-grown-suckers/ It touches on, in more detail, some points that I have made in this blog a while ago. However the problem in question seems to have been around for a while, so it was worth discussing again.

Away from the admin of today, after two nights of collapsing on the sofa, so run down that we could cry, The Chancellor and I closed our eyes and imaged a holiday of sun, sand and sea. I posited that we just say sod it, max out the credit cards, leave the wee man with the grandparents and head off the the Maldives for a week or so. At the time of saying this it the idea seemed daft and far fetched but the more I thought about it the more it began to sound like a wonderful idea. You only live once eh? Plus there would be no guilt about the wee man as he loves spending time with his Grandparents and they love having him. Just imagine a week of sleep. A week of peace. A week of not being ill. A week of...I could go on for a while with this. So let's just say it would be very nice indeed.

There should be a fund set up by the government for parents who need a holiday as there is no one more deserving of a holiday as a knackered parent. Everyone I know certainly would benefit from from time in the sun. At the moment The Chancellor and I are on permanent catch-up, mainly with our health and sleep. Once one of us gets rid of something then another one of us gets something again. I can't remember a time when one of wasn't ill. I think a long holiday would sort us all out and it might just cheer us up a little bit.

Two years ago this month, before children, we were in Barcelona enjoying very comfortable temperatures, the delights of Gaudi, very nice wine and amazing food. How things change...


jpr    

A Look Can Say A Thousand Words

A look can say a thousand words. At the end of a recent group I drummed up conversation with a lady I had seen previously but never really spoken to. After a moment of small talk it dawned on her that I might be doing childcare full time. She asked 'Oh so you're doing the full time childcare?' 'Yes' I replied. To that she raised her eyebrows and turned away from me with a look that said,  'I see so that's how they're doing it?' It wasn't a particularly mean thing but you could see exactly what she thought of a man staying off to look after their child.

She didn't offend me or upset me, she merely made made me think she was a bit of a moron. I might be a bit of a novelty at some baby groups but surely you must have seen some other dads taking their kids to these things or you know doing some parenting. In fairness it's the first look or comment, in this vain, that I've received since starting this five months ago. Anyway I would have challenged her but I was preoccupied with whether it was too late for shops to be selling bacon and sausage sandwiches. Next time.

Back to today and there is far too much happening for me to write it all down in another paragraph. So I will do a quick headline news ticker.

THE WEE MAN VOMITS FRENCH TOAST IN MIDDLE OF BABY GROUP- DAD IS NOT HAPPY.

THE WEE MAN'S GRANDMA VISITS AND DOES WASHING UP- DAD VERY HAPPY.

WEE MAN REFUSES TO NAP- WEE MAN NOT HAPPY.

There you go.


jpr

  

Rachel Riley Doesn't Even Cheer You Up? You Must Be Sick...

So The Chancellor returned to work this morning leaving me still with the illness I had yesterday, minus the blood and the wee man who has now got the illness I have, minus the blood though thank God.

Tonight I am not just excited for her to walk through the door, I will be waiting at the front door for her. As soon as she gets in she will get a baby boy who has cried more often than not for at least three hours this afternoon. I'm going to go and invest in ear plugs before tomorrow because after the first hour of crying it starts to get a bit tiresome and if this happens tomorrow I will need to protect myself. Not even the lovely Rachel Riley on Countdown would cheer him up and her lovely face would cheer anybody up. She always cheers me up.

With Rachel Riley off the table I ran off the obligatory list of things that could be wrong. Teeth? Ok we'll try some teething gel. Not a winner? Ok I know you're a little ill some how about some Calpol? That's tasty isn't it? He sure likes Calpol, but I don't blame him I used to like it too especially back in the day when it had sugar in it. Who didn't? It seemed to do something for a while. Finally though it was a bit of dinner and ten minutes of SpongeBob that calmed him down and seems quite cheery now but I'm still watching the clock on the living room wall and waiting. A watched pot never boils and a watched front door never opens...

On bad days the wee man and I have stood in the front room bay window watching the buses go by seeing if we could spot The Chancellor about to get off. These are the desperation days. It's a shame the nights are so much darker in winter as we can't quite see who's on the bus. When I buy my earplugs tomorrow I will invest in a torch too and we can peer through the gloom for her. That won't look dodgy at all...


jpr

The Chancellor Is Very Wonderful

Today's post nearly didn't happen. After a routine bout of man flu yesterday, I thought after a good nights sleep I would be ok. But this morning after an awful ill nights sleep I started vomiting blood. I'm no medical expert but I know that this isn't a very good thing. A few years ago the same thing happened but that was because I gauged on meat which included eating a suckling pig. This time there was no meat involved, so it made me worry a little seeing the toilet bowl filled with blood. I cried out to The Chancellor to see what had happened not that it was at all a pretty sight. 

So she stood by her marriage vows and took the day off work to help me with the wee man. As I couldn't walk this morning it would have been very hard for me to do any childcare. She has been a star all day letting me sleep for four extra hours this morning, making me soup and looking after a very grumpy child. A very grumpy child. It's important that I say this twice as he's been a little bugger all day. But if he has the onsets of what I have then I feel very sorry for him.

To placate the wee man The Chancellor is dancing around to a Disney songs CD that seems to have been on a permanent cycle in our house. He is more than happy to bounce up and down for the entirety of the CD, which is good for me as it tires him out ergo sleep tonight, in reality this never happens it's just me being hopeful.Without ever really wanting or asking to I know now the words to most Disney movie songs and find myself singing them around the house, which is really annoying. What is also really annoying is he has just discovered the button that starts the same songs again, he will let it run for a few second then press the button starting it again and again and again until you have to just turn the machine off to save sanity. Walt Disney has a lot to answer for.

jpr   

First Birthday Parties Part 2

Round two today of first birthdays. For us there will now be a few weeks at the same time each year of children's birthdays. This will be the very expensive month, especially so close to Christmas. The older the children get the more depressed I think we will get. Before you know it the wee man will be 21, a fully fledged adult and I will be old with a bad hip moaning about how everything was much better  in my day, which is very true it was better.

Today though was about more food, more cake and lots more children but not as many as yesterday fortunately. I'm not sure I could have coped with loads of marauding children again. Luckily the wee man and I managed to find ourselves a quiet corner where we could play with the toys and eat our buffet foods, which were very nice. The only sour moment was when the party girl cuddled the wee man and he burst into tears. It's difficult to explain to him that in a few years time he will be desperate for girls to cuddle him. All in good time son, all in good time.

Like yesterday we were sent packing with a good amount of cake most of which has been eaten already over a cup of tea. A great Sunday afternoon. For me maybe but not The Chancellor who as I write is wrestling with an exploding diarrheay nappy and a very over tired baby. I'll just leave her to it, wouldn't want to interfere. Plus I still have half a cup of tea here and rotten smell will put me off finishing it.

So once again this weekend, partying has worn us all out and we are ready for bed a few hours earlier than normal. It's hard this sociable lark. We were saying on the way back from the party we have more friends and do more things now we have the wee man, just a shame we have no money now.


jpr





      

Black Eyes, Piss and Cake

'We have a son with a black eye and odd socks and we're covered in piss! We shouldn't be allowed to go to these things, we're not like the other parents!'

This was the cry from The Chancellor as we drove off to a first birthday party, naturally late for proceedings  What she spoke was the truth we did all look like a right state. The wee man had been awoken early from his nap which like yesterday he wasn't happy about. And in his anger he unleashed, while in the middle of a nappy change, piss all over himself, me and The Chancellor. In hindsight I don't really blame him. I'm always annoyed when something wakes me up.

I had hoped to find, at the party, a chair in a quiet room to hide away in but on arrival I quickly realised that this wouldn't happen. Children everywhere. And not just babies but big children all making loads of noise and one even started circling me with a toy train. This made me very uncomfortable and I tried discreetly to shoo him away. Every room we entered there were tears, then shouts then more tears. The wee man to be fair managed pretty well, he just took it all in his stride until he conked out on his mum. I felt like doing the same. 

All tired out we left managing to stash a hearty amount of cake with us which I am now eating quite happily as the wee man naps and The Chancellor reads her magazine. How civilised. And on top of this we have a babysitter (Irish Mummy) booked for tonight and I am taking The Chancellor out for a romantic meal which she is paying for! I only found out about this last night. Don't ask, long story, crossed wires. I might raid my penny collection and pay for the tip. Would they frown on getting a tip with pennies? Only one way to find out.

jpr

The Rise Of The Dad (For One Week At Least)

For the first time since I took over from The Chancellor, men outnumbered women at a baby group today. I am claiming this a win for dads despite the fact that there are only five babies in the group. Even though this group is small it was nice not to be in the minority and it was the lone woman banished into the corner of the changing room instead of me. Next week though we will return to me saying 'Can I come out now?'

I was a bit worried to take the wee man out out after a 'minor' accident this morning which resulted in a black eye for the boy. Being a boy who can now climb he was attempting to get inside his box plastic toy box. Not knowing what friction is yet he hasn't realised that socks on shiny plastic means he will slide very quickly. This he did and he fell, smashing his eye on the side of the plastic box. There was of course that ominous silence and breath holding then he let rip and told me exactly how he felt. Poor little bugger.

Very quickly a bruise appeared which I don't think I can hide from The Chancellor even in soft light. Luckily it has reduced but he still looks like he has been boxing. I was waiting for 'those' looks today and I was ready to say 'He did it himself! He was playing! I'm not an abusive parent!' But luckily no looks came.

Anyway The Chancellor won't have time to question me under a lamp as she is off out to get horrendously drunk and come will come home in wee hours waking us all up. Wait...that sounds more like me. She will be home by ten after a couple of cocktails. But it will be a nice chance for her to see some of the other mummies again and they will moan that I'm not as fun as her and that they want her back. Sorry ladies you're stuck with me for another year at least.


jpr    

Woe Is Me

We're all over the place today at HQ. The wee man had another horrendous night, being awake from half eleven to half four with no sleep in the middle. After finally drifting off, he slept until about half nine this morning. He was not best of pleased when I decided to rouse him from his slumber and spent a good fifteen minutes telling me about it. Loudly.

The sight of The Chancellor and I looking exhausted and feeling worse has been common place recently and I for one am getting a dash pissed off. At the moment after various illnesses it seems to be one step forward two steps back and I would like just a bit of consistency. With the wee man sleeping in for so long our whole routine has now been whacked out of place and it takes a bit of time and patience to get back on track.

His lack of enthusiasm for our music group visit makes me think we have ANOTHER illness with us. It seems like we have only just gotten rid of the last one. But it was good to see, at the musical fun, the son of Funny Mummy back to his usual chirpy self after their impromtue visit to A&E. Maybe I shouldn't moan so much about my problems everyone has something going on themselves.

But on a bright note the Baby Centre blog got published today which made a hazy morning seem a bit brighter. It can be found at http://www.baby.co.uk/mum_stories/a-note-from-the-blushing-bloke-in-the-corner-3/ . It's not much different from this, just the language is a bit cleaner. Read and share if you can.

There is a smell that is suddenly putting me off slightly and I think it means someone needs a change of underwear. No the person isn't me but would I realise if it was? I'm so tired I probably wouldn't. Might go and check both of us, cheerio for now.


jpr

'It Says Romans Go Home'. 'No It Doesn't.'

With the wee man's first birthday peeking around the corner it was nice today to think, as we took our afternoon stroll, about what I was doing on this day a year ago. Unsurprisingly I couldn't remember.

'Wow that was a really good story' I can hear you saying to yourself. One of my better ones I think. But the point of me saying this is that apart from seeing The Smashing Pumpkins just before he was born I have no memories of the lead up to his birth. I have a couple of pictures of The Chancellor sitting on a giant ball but I don't remember taking them.

The abiding memory of the the day she went into labour was watching Monty Python's Life of Brian while we were sitting at home carefully plotting the long list of contractions. The Chancellor would be laughing quite heartily one minute then straining and breathing quickly the next as another contraction washed over her. Luckily The Chancellor shared my opinion that this was quite funny and it was all very surreal. If she hadn't have shared my sense of humour I might well have met my son with a black eye.

After going in hospital my memories start to blur and become a little hazy. And after mid-night of that night the memories just disappear. This is a shame and these memory lapses were one of the reasons I started the blog. I can at least go back in a years time and see exactly what I was doing. However with the ramblings of these blog posts I might not want to remember what I was doing, especially on those slow days.



jpr

P.S. Just a reminder I start my weekly blog on the Baby Centre UK website tomorrow if you are interested in reading more of my witterings. I don't blame you if you are washing your hair but if you can find the time it would make me quite happy. Thanks a lot. 

Time To Build A Castle

I'm a man of the edge! Well that's being a bit dramatic and in fairness it probably is The Chancellor whose on the edge. If she had an axe or a broad sword then she would chopped my head off last night. She is generally a very patient woman but with me wittering on and stressing about my new responsibilities with the new blog all night I think she might have been close to ending my life. It's the last thing she needs when she returns home after a long day at work is me having a bit of a meltdown. But a few problems had emerged with the first blog post including technical glitches with the uploading platform and like my son has done on many an occasion I got past myself. I think my nerves had taken over a wee bit and led me down a path of neurotic chatter and annoyance. I would have chopped my head off just to shut me up.

Anyway sorted. For now. So onto today. Well I would talk about today but it's one of those days when nothing is happening. The constant rain doesn't really get you enthused enough to venture outside. So I think it might be a day of fort building or assault course building  There are plenty of old boxes hanging around the house and I could probably muster up the energy to transport us to a world of castles and dragons. Of course it's all for me rather than the wee man who will just eat the boxes anyway. It will kill time before The Chancellor returns home if anything.

So off I go to pretend that I'm in Game of Thrones. We will be of course be Northerners from Winterfell. It will certainly be a boys afternoon of slaying dragons and Lanisters. I have already mustered up the necessary excitement and am now looking for foam from which to make a sword. All I need now is Sean Bean...

jpr 

Sign O' The Times

I feel a little guilty today. Well maybe not guilt but I feel sorry for the wee man. I feel sorry for him because his Dad is an idiot and a sucker for consumer products. I went and bought a very early Christmas present for myself, well it's from The Chancellor and my parents but I thought I would pick it up today so I can play with two months before Christmas. I went and got a tablet this morning, a Google device that is shiny and does stuff fun and is new and shiny and bright and shiny.

In a morning of adventure and fun for the wee man we went a number of electrical outlets finding the right price for my new toy. This was all well and good for the first couple of shops. Pull up, get him out of the car, check price, put him back in. Repeat for a good hour and half  He doesn't like being in his car seat for long periods so by the time we got to shop number five or six he was a bit peeved as you would imagine. 'This again?' was the general feeling of the boy but I did find the best price so he has to be happy with that. But all's well that ends well, despite being a but pissed off he is napping and my new toy is charging so everyone's a winner.

I remember being a child and being dragged around rubbish places, like supermarkets, with my parents wishing I was anywhere else. So even though the wee man is too young to really notice I do feel his pain already. And I worry for the day he is old enough to know his Dad is a bit rubbish and addicted to new things. I hope he isn't inflicted with my addictive personality. By the time he is a teenager for example the thing that I have bought today will be obsolete and there will be something new that all the kids and childish adults like me want. It's just a sign of the times I suppose.

Enough writing I need to see if it has finished charging...


jpr

Do You Want My Advice?

Something really funny happens when you are a parent and you meet people who are in various stages of pregnancy. You become one of those people who you hated when you yourself were pregnant. You sit there and vent repressed emotion about what happened with your child. You find yourself saying things like 'I know it might be different with your child but...' or 'Everyone will give you advice, I hated that but the only  piece of advice I'll give you is...' You just can't help yourself. Later on, especially if the couple having their first, you feel sorry for them that you have been so full on. They have been left in a state of fear and total bewilderment. You reel off nightmare story after nightmare story about sleep or the lack of it that must just leave them wondering what they did getting pregnant.

So to my cousin and her husband I am sorry, I just needed to vent. Both me and the Chancellor were naive about having a child and there is nothing like the hand on experience of actually having one. You can take all the NCT classes you want but nothing will prepare you. Sorry I'm doing it again aren't I. Advice. Maybe it's just that you want to look after new parents because you know how hard it is or maybe I'm just a smug git. No more I promise.

Despite me trying to be really well informed parent #1, a splendid time was had by all this weekend even if the wee man had a funny turn with the fireworks. Good food, wine and excellent babysitting which allowed me to rest my poor feet. Also a quick shout out tonight to Funny Mummy and Funny Daddy whose son was in hospital today after an accident with a mirror. I'm just amazed we weren't the first in A&E and it's made The Chancellor and I more inclined to baby proof the house and put the wee man in bubble wrap forever. I hope you all sleep tonight and your little man gets better soon.


jpr

Banished

I bet you've been waiting at your computers all day haven't you? Have you been hitting refresh on the One Man website waiting for an update? Have you been asking yourself or your friend why there hasn't been an update today? 'Oh my God it's so late and there is nothing new.' If you haven't been asking yourself this then shame on you. If you have been asking yourself this then a super secret prize is on your way.

It's amazing what can happen in 24 hours. After a night of me sleeping on the living room floor you would think I was really pissed off with the world. But our annual fireworks night has cheered me up. Well the five or six glasses of wine cheered me up. The wee man lasted the first half of the proceedings until a particular screechy rocket caused his lower lip to tremble and his face to to drop and The Chancellor in a motherly moment whisked hum inside away from the circus. Luckily she was sober and knew what was best for him. She's wonderful isn't she?!

But I can hear your concern. Why did you have to sleep on the living room floor last night? What did The Chancellor do to you? It was due to my own gluttony and three quarters of a bottle of wine that led me to the living room floor. The wee man and his clinginess meant that for another night he was in our bed which we don't like but if it means we all sleep then I'm happy. But after drinking nearly a bottle of wine I was banished to front room in case I rolled over and squished him. Fair enough but I can't remember a night that I slept upright on the sofa for a while. Oooooh my back this morning. Banished and it was so cold last night. I feel your pity towards me.

Luckily after today there are haven't been any ill effects for the wee man after the fireworks and it hasn't scarred him for life. But if tonight was the beginning of pyromania then The Chancellor is to blame. Clearly.


jpr  

Ooooooh Ahhhhhhhh Wooooooooo

The wee man is in for a treat this weekend. Not only are two of his Grandparents visiting (babysitting for me) but he will experience the joy that is fireworks for the first time. Every Bonfire Night weekend there is an annual get together of a large portion of my family. 12 or so family members and various other plus ones, including The Chancellor, pile into a house, get drunk and watch a dazzling display of gunpowder and smoke. The wiz bangs are generally accompanied by ooohs and ahhhhs and woooooooos. If you don't know the family it would all look totally chaotic and very very scary but it is generally entertaining for lots of different reasons.

We're not sure how the wee man will cope with the loads bangs and screeches. He hasn't experienced anything yet on the decibel level that rivals fireworks, so I'm intrigued by his reaction.  About a month ago I went for an asthma review and had to demonstrate how I used my inhalers. They gave me a prototype to use which had a whistle on the end of it. It did to be honest make a horrible noise and it caused the wee man to roll his bottom lip over and burst into tears. I tried this a few times and each time got the same reaction. Poor guy. So if he had this reaction to a small whistle then God knows what he will do with fireworks. Knowing the wee man he will probably crawl off and try and eat them.

At last year's festive extravaganza The Chancellor was heavily pregnant and ready to pop. How a year has come round already is beyond me but it has and I will be saying the same thing next year and the year after and the year after that until I'm dead. So tomorrow I will kick back with a few glasses of wine (The Chancellor is the designated driver) and bask in my parents being around to look after the wee man. I might just close my eyes and have an afternoon nap in a cosy armchair in peace. Joy.


jpr

Do You Want A Signed Picture Of Me?

'Be prepared to make a fool of yourself!' This is the battle cry this morning from a very Geordie woman as me and three mummies begin a morning of messy play that is on an industrial level. There were three rooms dedicated to making a mess and they are filled to bursting with mucky children, including the wee man. I left home this morning with a clean boy and returned with the Incredible Hulk as he took a liking to spaghetti covered in green food colouring. It didn't take long, as you can imagine, for us to retire to the 'quiet' room which was much nicer that my own living room and filled with toys galore. So I sat back on the leather sofa and let the wee man rampage around to his heart's delight. Top parenting.

As we were there I asked Funny Mummy what it was like to know a celebrity now that I'm a world renowned writer. She didn't need to reply and I got a look of 'you twat'. I told her next time she books us in for anything she must follow my name with 'writer for Baby Centre, do you know him?' I wonder if they mums in my group would like a signed picture of me for their wall or maybe a key fob with my face on it. Or even better a Zoolander-esque calender so I can be with them every month. Maybe not. I'm glad all the ladies I know have a sense of humour otherwise I think I could get ostracised from the group very quickly if I keep going on like this. From now on I'm banning myself from talking about blogging and the like until I have something up on the Baby Centre website. If they want a signed picture or key fob they will have to ask me themselves.  

So before the last beams of sun disappear today I might go and sit in the park and see how many people I can tell 'I'm a baby Centre Blogger.' I don't think however that is the way to make friends and someone might not just look at me and think 'twat' they will probably say it to my face. Not everyone knows my tongue is firmly in my cheek. Until tomorrow.


jpr