A blog on thriving, when you only really planned to be one of those three things.
Son: My sister is not a he…
He’s just getting to grips with gender, after caller her ‘him’ for about six months now.
Correct
Son: He’s a girl!
Almost right
Daughter: I’m a she!
Son: Yes. And I’m a boy!
Yes
Son: And daddy is a man!
Correct
Daughter: and mummy is a lady; isn’t she daddy?
Daughter: Daddy?
Daughter: Daddy??
Bath time
BSD
I’ve noticed that I go quiet when the cubs aren’t around. I am planning another finance post based around single parent issues, but that’s taking some time to come together.
In the meantime, get your head around this sweet horror story.
On the way home; again.
I hadn’t seen them for a few days as they were with their mum last weekend, so I was pretty excited to pick them both up.
Him first, and he was as excited as me. I like to have a catch up in the car, even though we had ‘face timed’ over the weekend.
He mumbled incoherently for a bit, before effervescently telling me that he wanted a pet, a spider-dog, and that it should be called Adam.
He waited for my response, which didn’t come (could you answer that one..?) then promptly fell asleep. He’d clearly put a shift in at nursery.
Befuddled, I went to get her.
More great cuddles and she has news. She always has news.
“DAD! I’ve baked you some cookies!”
Oh that’s lovely darling; thank you.
“You’re welcome! I made them on Saturday!”
I picked one out of the bag and ate it, ignoring the funny colouring.
“It did have icing on it…”
Oh? I said, hoping it had fallen off at some point over the past two days…
“I find the icing irresistible! it’s just so tasty!”
Oh no
“So I licked it all off whilst they were still warm”
BSD
“Dad; there’s been a case of head licence at school”
Eh? a case of what?
“Head licence”
I think you mean head lice dear. A licence is…well, it doesn’t matter now.
“One of the boys has them. He was working at his desk and one jumped out onto his book”
Are you sure darling? that’s quite unusual. Did you see it happen?
“No, but one of my friends did and she’s been a good source of information in the past”
I think you listen to daddy talk too closely. Anyway, head lice are quite common and pretty easy to pass from person to person. They only like clean hair.
“I should probably stop washing mine then”
NO
“I think the cold kills them so we should be ok now.”
That’s good to know
“I’m not sure how they feel about spring though”
Who??
“The head licence; the cold kills them. It’s pretty cold in Spring still isn’t it?”
Lice. Cold? Who told you that anyway? Was this your friend again?
“No; this was a teacher.”
Well….?!!?…..Ok.
Armistice
“Dad; they’ve taken down all those poppies that we saw on the lamppost yesterday”
They were up for Remembrance Sunday / Armistice day where we pay tribute to those who lost their lives during conflicts and wars.
“How many people died?”
Quite a …..
“And before you say ‘a lot’ can you give me a number please. I need that level of detail”
Jesus.
Well i’m not sure but it was in the 10’s of millions. You’d think that with all that loss of life, humanity would lear……
“PADDINGTON IS ON AT THE CINEMA!!”
I guess she is only 7.
Good habits
“Dad”
Yes darling?
“I really don’t like coming home in the dark; can you work a bit less?”
I’d love to, but life is a balancing act at the moment. No work no pay.
“There isn’t a lot of time to do anything by the time we get home”
You could do your homework? there’s always time for that.
“………………………………………..why would you even say that…?”
“Dad”
(Christ) Yes?
“Have you had grapes with cheese before? they’re fantastic! you really should try it!”
Yeah I do darling; quite often.
“Oh ok. Do you like them”
Yes. Adults will often have them with a glass of red wine.
“Really?”
Yes
“So can I have some in my packed lunch tomorrow?”
What; cheese and grapes?
“Yes”
Yes of course
“And you’d better put the wine in my water bottle or the teachers might want some”
This conversation was approximately 5 minutes of a 45 minute journey.
BSD
02:09 this morning, I was woken up by the sound of singing.
I lifted my head off of the pillow to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
Yep. Definitely singing.
My initial, waking thought was one of terror, until remembered that the cubs were here and they had decided to share a bed that evening.
The feeling quickly turned to one of a protective dad, but as my confusion cleared, that clarity reassured me that it was my daughter’s voice.
All sounded ok; I lay my head down.
The next morning, I roused them with the usual rendition of ‘Good morning; good morning! You’ve slept the whole night through…’ and a barrage of kisses.
As they both came around, I asked if one of them had been singing last night.
“Yeah that was me..” said my daughter. She pointed at her brother.
“He couldn’t sleep and asked me to sing him a lullaby. I couldn’t remember one so I hummed to him instead until he went to sleep.”
I’m still sighing now, 13 hours later.
BSD
Moreover, perpetually smelling it.
As any parent of young cubs will know, poo plays quite a prominent role in your day.
Nappy changes, potty training and generally forgetting that toilets need flushing are all part of the jolly tapestry of the reward that is parenting.
Understand this; I’m a clean freak. My home is tidy for the majority of the time and I’m no fan of this ‘lived in’ philosophy. I prefer the showhome standpoint. My two beg to differ and occasionally, I’m happy to compromise.
The Saturday routine I had as a kid was that we would all chip in and help clean the house; this has extended into my adulthood.
Today was no different and the cubs are doing their rooms. Well my son isn’t but he’s only 3.
They were upstairs as I cleaned the kitchen. Occasionally I’d pop up, if only to restore some civil order where my son had wondered in to my daughter’s room and refused to leave.
As I neared, I was met by a poo haze, and my youngest in his favoured ‘mid poo’ squat.
Come on big man; time for a bum change.
‘Not finished yet!’ Was his customary reply and this time was no different. I waited.
His sister’s room was full of the most interesting funk so I opened the windows.
Eventually, he followed me. Before we went through the process I opened the windows. I do like open windows and whatever the weather, this is my first job on waking. A home benefits from a good blow through.
‘It’s a sloppy one daddy!’
I appreciated the warning, and the fact that his vocabulary is coming along so well.
Change done. No drama. He ran back to his sister’s room.
It smelt of poo, despite the windows being open. Hmmm.
I went downstairs with the offending package bagged up.
Downstairs smelt of poo.
I couldn’t understand it. Windows were open but it lingered.
I put the bag in the outside bin;
Outside smelt of poo.
By the time I came back in, both cubs were downstairs and hunting for snacks. My daughter looked at me, and screamed.
Well actually, it was more of a scream/laugh thing, accompanied by her pointing.
DAD! THERE’S POO ON YOUR NOSE!!
That explained it.
BSD.
For that conversation.
‘Daddy look at this!’
What is it darling?
‘These two pigeons on next door’s roof are fighting; they’re having an argument’
How so?
‘Yep they’re definitely arguing. One has climbed on top of the other one!’
I don’t think they’re arguing sweetie but it will probably end up that way.
I’m a romantic at heart.
BSD
‘Calamity Jane has anger issues’
According to my eldest cub.
‘She nearly shot someone in the cheek!’
I couldn’t disagree.
It had always been a favourite film of mine having had it forced upon me as a child by my parents. As such, when she came home singing about The Deadwood Stage, I gladly joined in.
She was surprised and happy, so all three of us had a singsong comprising of the words that we could remember.
We were even more surprised to find that in packing their bag for the week, their mum had included a DVD of the movie, still in the wrapper. On it went.
It had been a pretty uneventful day thus far and I was feeling sluggish as a result of an 05:45 start courtesy of my youngest.
During the week of half term, I had planned to alternate a day at home and a day out somewhere just to keep things balanced. A mix up earlier this month by the authorities had left me with bingo cash for the remainder of the month. I’d known things were going to be tight so I’d planned some cheap and cheerful activities to fill out time.
First things first, we indulged in a bit of housekeeping. During home day yesterday, the youngest cub decided to investigate and distribute a pack of loom bands around his sister’s room.
I don’t recall how much I paid for the pack of loom bands, but there seem to be roughly 4.5 million on the floor so I guess I got good value for money.
Luckily, she had the great idea of using the vacuum cleaner, once the cylinder was emptied so it actually became a non-issue.
Out of all the plans I’d had in my head today, we opted for the park in our old village. It’s a firm favourite and never disappoints.
The eldest clambered aboard her favourite apparatus; the death slide. The youngest watched as she whizzed past, whooping with joy.
He wanted some of the action.
They decided to both get on.
Initially, they asked me for help; but as I’m keen for them to develop independence, I told them to figure it out. I find that the rewards that come with hard work are so much sweeter and I hope to evolve that in them too.
Success
Both on, they had their first slide. Judging by the screams, it was everything they’d hoped for.
They sprinted back to the launch for round two. Their arrangement looked a little precarious but not wanting to be a helicopter parent, I stood back. The ground was covered in lovely, soft wood chips and pine so they wouldn’t come to harm even if they did have a spill.
Then, as with most human endeavour, confidence outweighed competence. Hands were coming off the slide in motion to wave in joy.
As they hit the stop, the halted motion whilst dampened, was enough to eject both passengers inverted.
She landed across her shoulders and neck; he, on top of her, landing on his face. Cue tears.
And mild concussion.
They’re fine.
I do not own the image above.
BSD
It’s half term; the cubs are with me.
“Daddy; your room is bigger than mine”
Well I’m here all the time; you two are only here sometimes.
“Your bed is quite big though, but I think mummy gets annoyed with you when you snore in her face”
Yes well luckily mummy doesn’t have to put up with that anymore.
Not sure why that annoyed me so much….
BSD
06:45, weekday morning:
06:33, weekend morning:
I’m knackered.
BSD
Always the best policy.
I picked the cubs up after to work today. The order was reversed as I was in the north of the county so daughter was first, followed by son.
I walked into after-school club and she was sitting alone on a sofa. This is quite unusual for her as she is normal a social being and would normally be in the midst of her friends.
She turned and saw me; and immediately I could tell, all was not right. She moved to the middle of the seat, hugged me and burst into tears.
Through the sobs
Her school has a reward system called ‘Golden Time’, which is awarded to children for good behaviour. They collect tokens throughout the day which gives them time back to do something they like. If they’re well behaved throughout the whole term, they get a certificate. Since starting school 3 years ago, she’s never missed one. She parades them like a badge of honour.
Today, she had lost her entitlement to Golden Time.
A minor idescretion had led to it; she was inconsolable.
Rebuilding
We hugged; a lot. Then we talked.
We discussed mistakes and how important it is to make them. We then talked about the importance of learning from them so that we could avoid them in the future.
I also told her that I make mistakes quite often. That seemed to do the trick.
The assistants at the club were concerned that something had happened whilst she was under their care as she had been ok up until the moment I arrived.
She’d been holding on to these feelings for most of the day before they finally exploded into full blown tears.
Thinking
I was reassured that despite all the inner turmoil she’d put herself through before I arrived, she’d confided in me completely as soon as she saw me.
This level of trust is critical; I need her to come to me regardless. Communication and compassion above all else.
BSD
broke-single-dad 