Stay at home dad

Parent's evening

I've got to admit it, right now, that I am using the TV as a baby-sitter whilst I type this post. I don't think that makes me a bad person. They can learn alot from Ben 10 you know. I mean Little Prince has been at school all day and frankly, he is tired, or in his own words:

"Dad... I'm nackid.."

I think I am probably responsible for his use of the slang word 'knackered' and I almost choked on my redbush tea the first time he said it, I was actually proud and highly amused!

So anyway today's subject is parent's evenings or basically how to prepare for ... I wonder if I must dress smartly. I wonder if I should have a whole list of relevant questions to ask earnestly of the teacher. Finally, I wonder how I will take any negativity, after all, I take criticism myself very badly.

Then I got to thinking: LP is only FOUR and hey school at the moment is glorified playing wearing school uniform! Also, if the teacher sees me every day rocking up in odd socks and a crumpled dirty T Shirt then it aint gonna make any impact if she sees me looking uncomfortable in a suit. See I'm not the parent with the high-flying career in the city.. that's reserved for Mrs.SAHD. She can be the one to swoop in and ask the awkward questions and try and get LP promoted to the top set. I shall just stand back and try not to eat the biscuits (if there are any).

Any advice would be gladly received but you'd better be quick because the date for this milestone is tomorrow at 5:20 pm.

In any event I'll give you my observations after the event.

Gaming

What is acceptable levels of gaming? I don't mean online poker, I mean 'computer' games. I tell you I am left behind with all this. Even when I was a kid I never really got into the whole Artari and spectrum zx thing and aside a brief obssession with 'Twin Cobra', a shoot'em up helicopter game during second year at uni, I have never really seen the fascination.

But now... little prince is absolutely fascinated by his elder cousins and their gaming: online, PS3, Wii, Runescape, call of duty 4, world of warcraft, LOTR online... it goes on and on. Most of them are incredibly violent and involve the close quarters massacre of some non-specific soldier or other with a vast array of weaponry including: every firearm know to man and lots of evil looking blades or clubs.

This is when I realise I am getting a bit old and probably turning into my father BUT when I was a child it was all about not being able to get outside quick enough and ride my bike or walk the dog or throw stones at, well, anything. TV was banned except for about half an hour at 6pm. Definitely not on a Saturday morning. But then again I was also a sheets and blanket guy, I'd never heard of a continental quilt.

Oh god! I really am turning into an old git.

Mind you, there was real violence in there in my youth, my brother and I used to shoot at each other with high powered hunting catapults and shoot everything with air rifles, not to mention the making of petrol bombs and stealing shotgun cartridges so that we could extract the gunpowder (for aforesaid bomb making)....and then setting off the percussion cap of the cartridge on the hot plate of the Aga.

Perhaps it is safer to leave LP in a virtual environment??

Bonfire Night

I watched it grow from my ill bed. I watched the worker bees add piece upon piece as the large structured pile took shape, LP told me that they even had a 'TRACTOR' helping with the creation of the pagan sacrificial fire as it took on the shape of a small two up two down, right opposite us in the field they call (the one that will never be developed) Carter's Meadow.

I was supposed to be helping but I was struck down with a mixture of the tail-end of man flu and the full-blown sickness bug. Good excuse that, no one can argue. Slightly undermined by LP who simply wanted to be out there 'doin' it' with the village shamen menfolk, but it couldn't be helped, I was ill with a capital 'I'.

I made up for it though - tonight - it was the bonfire night party and I was a steward. I was a figure of authority. Not since school when I was a dinner monitor did people look at me with such respect. I was positively flying...

Unfortunately, I was not with my boy when he whooped and sucked his teeth at the incredible Chinese fireworks and I can only imagine how much fun he had twirling around the neon pink stick thingy that is even now hanging on the front door latch.

I've just looked out of the bedroom window and the fire is still going. There is something so safe and comforting about looking at a real wood fire. I will fall asleep with the gradually flickering embers dying down on a cold November night.

Childhood memories are made on nights like this.

Annual Review

So it has been a whole year since I became SAHD. There have been ups. There have been downs. What have Little Prince and I learnt from the experience?

1. Dad is tougher than mum.

2. Dad is softer than he thought.

3. LP is getting mighty clever at persuading dad to do what LP wants..NOW!

4. Kids like being dropped off and picked up from school by their parents.

5. There is more to life than work work work... after all there is the School PTA!

6. One has to be 'known' to suceed in politics.

7. No matter how many cars you buy and sell you will never be content.

8. It is possible to have female friends.

9. Kids are great. Don't miss out. You'll never get this time back again.

10. Working part time rocks!

The highlights have been seeing LP flourish in a warm and thriving village community and then go on to a brilliant school with friends he made at nursery. Safe, secure and most importantly happy (bar the odd tantrum).

Home life is less of a battle field also.

No: "MY job is more important than your job..!" arguments anymore.

So overall a successful experiment and now to draw it to a conclusion I must return to the ranks of the working masses...

ONLY JOKING

Yo! Milliband

You are my new star, ok you look a bit like a lego character and seem to have the humourless exterior of a 'not-quite-human-being' but hey I will put that down to bad PR. After all look at your (new) leader, the 21st century DARTH VADER, all monosyllabic cyclical messages and helmet hair (much like yourself). At least you are a man of principle.

I lay down at your feet a large bushel of respect for your stand about your new child versus the Saudi royal visit.

One question: are you in trouble with Gordon?

I don't know ANY CEOs who would put up with your excuse for missing that state visit! Good on you fella...

I thought it was a joke when I read the story.

Here's a massive big 'up to the 'Foz Sec' as I shall now refer to you (with respec').

Why am I at all interested in your story? Because you put your children first. You are a hero, just don't expect to be rewarded for it.

Yours, over and out dark lord,

A SAHD admirer.

Tune in, drop out...

Or, put another way, 'Techniques to filter out noise from children'.

As I sit here typing, I have just heard the following exchange between LP and his cousin,

"HE PUSHED ME !!"

[Insert a cacophony of wails, screeches and protestations of innocence]

"He upset me ... I didn't do anything.."

"SAY sorry.. NOW!"

Actually it is still going on right now. The wailing is probably the loudest bit. Both of them are crying and despite the office door being tightly shut, I can hear every grimace, feel every tear and virtually see the bright red cheeks stained with indignant tears...

So it brought to mind the techniques I have used and others have given me to drown out the noise and reclaim some aural territory.

1. Bose noise cancelling headphones. The Rolls Royce of noise abatement. A force ten tantrum wouldn't breach the soft leather earplugs as you lie back and really get 'in-to' that latest Amy Winehouse single.

2. Soft foam earplugs. The budget choice and a good one. Watch out for ear infections though.

3. Sound deadening materials. Usually the sort of thing used in recording studios and in cars but there is no need to stop there. Recommended materials (which come on a roll) for wallpapering the office include dynamat and raamat both about 20 quid a roll.

4. GO OUT for a walk or simply open the front door, step outside and relax. This is the most often utilised strategy in our house but it is often raining so not always the easy option.

5. Move to a bigger house, see earlier post.

Anyway, the argument seems to be on hold whilst a few fish fingers are eaten or, put more accurately, pushed aorund the plate and smothered in tommy K.

The sloe gin has already turned a beautiful shade of purple, life seems good.

Sloe Gin

This is Prunus Spinosa  or the 'Blackthorn' bush:

I've been developing my Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall persona: what with the grape picking last week and now this.

Today, I could be mostly found either:

1.) Driving around very slowly in the country lanes near Blogley looking for Prunus Spinosa; or

2.) Walking around the country lanes near Blogley looking for Prunus Spinosa; or

3.) In a hedge at the side of a country lane near Blogley, actually picking the little b*ggers.

Obviously I am talking about Sloes and more importantly: Sloe Gin

Here's the recipe:

Pick your sloes from blackthorn hedges in October or November when they are most ripe - probably after the first frosts.

Take a litre bottle of gin, and drink half a litre

Cut or prick the sloes and drop into the half-empty bottle so that they displace the remaining gin to near the top.

Add one wine goblet of sugar (approx 150g).

All you have to do now is turn or agitate the bottle daily for a week, then weekly for a month or two ... by which time it will be ready to drink (but it is really best kept until the next winter). Please enjoy or pop round to Blog Cottage anytime after 26th December.

Movers and shakers

LP asked me today why it takes so long to move house. I tend to agree with the sentiment. I mean how hard can it be to sort out a simple house move?

Yes, we're on the move. Selling the beloved Blog Cottage and moving miles and miles away (well actually 200 yards down the road).

Looking forward to space as we currently occupy our living area with 4000 hot wheels cars, half of the playmobile range, most of the Doctor Who (third series) range and ALL of the power ranger figures ever produced. This means a number of injuries have occurred to myself and Mrs.SAHD and the last straw came when a family member of an 'older' generation twisted her frail old ankle and was laid up for a week in bed. So it was either:

1.) Get rid of Little Prince;

2.) Keep LP but ditch his toys; or

3.) Move house and get a play room.

Option number three won.

I for one was keen on option two but Mrs.SAHD said a small boy needs his toys. Not sure I agree, for example: we can simply leave him round at any of his friends houses (Slim, PD, Doc. etc..) for an hour a day and hey presto! he gets an hour's toy playing with none of the clearing up and mess at home.

In effect the decision to take option three has by its nature meant that option two has been implemented anyway. The role of any house seller is to make the house look like it is NOT lived in and there are definitely NO children living there.

A sale was achieved in double quick time and we shall now be moving to another and completely different sector of Blogley. Oddly, we will know all of our new immediate neighbours: I do hope they are as enthusiastic as us on the impending move. Hoping they like loud music and that they will enjoy my new AV set-up..! Oh, and new car exhaust note. Now then... where was that Pit Bull breeder's number?

Dream neighbours - that's us.

Will be in by christmas - we hope. Not sure we have enough furniture to fill the new place though.

Vino de Casa

Today I shall be mostly picking the chardonnay grape:

see here:

Oddly enough there is a vineyard in Blogley!!!

There I was licking my metaphorical wounds about the failure to attain the parent governor position when Slim mentioned to me and I chanced upon the ad in the Blogley Parish Gazette about the possibility of earning some cash to pick grapes at the 'Big House' of Blogley known locally as " Blenkinsops Yard" . Christ I was excited.

No sooner had I entered the hallowed gates of Blenkinsops Yard when I, quite literally, fell over one of the residents ( springer spaniel called 'Cave' or 'bubbles' or something) I stood up and approached the table of grape picking secaturs ( I have no idea how to spell that word ) and so began my grape-picking adventure.

Spent the next two and one half hours entertained by a local celebrity ex-military type. You see you stand either side of the vine and work your way down snipping away. As a result, you end up chatting to your picking buddy for hours about everything. The picking or more accurately the cutting of the grape is a hugely therapeutic activity and if you get a picking buddy of interest, you may pass many hours of pleasant fun and discussion enjoying oneself chatting away about the pros and cons of life and religion and politics etc...

But then I do like to talk.............

Old versus new

It's like the Cape of Good Hope where two oceans collide and all hell breaks loose with monster waves and unpredictable weather patterns. Think of me as Ellen Mac Arthur cutting my way across this maelstrom as I steer the little prince through the broken seas of the playground and into the safe harbour of Year R classroom. The colliding of kids we know and new kids we don't - not to mention the parents - when they all start school together.

Is it a matter of luck whether we make it? Or is it simply another obstacle in both my and LP's life that must be overcome. The Blogley Massive tend to group together and face the influx of alien kids some of whom become temporary gang members and/or possibly permanent gang members if they pass the initiation test. So far, so good. The tears have ended and new names have begun to be heard in conversations, along the lines of:

"Is Jesse coming round to my house..?"

Parents-wise, it is nerve-wracking but things are similarly calming down. It reminds me of the first week at uni when you were trying to make friends and become popular (NB re: popularity, see earlier post about my failure to win parent governor position..) but without the shagging - more's the pity!