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Saturday, 10 September 2016

5 Things I Learned as a Parent This Week (#48)

1.I'd rather see my child's empty plate at the end of a meal than my lottery numbers come up.

2.A toddler can spot stray dummies like a hawk spots field mice.

3.Kids get pop up book.
Kids wreck pop up book
Parents buy new pop up book.
Kids totally fucking destroy new book in seconds.

4.I should have tried a breast milk latte while I had the chance.

5.Reading a book to your child that you haven't already previously read 4,947 times is INCREDIBLE.

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Thursday, 1 September 2016

A Letter From My 17 Month-Old Son

Dear Dad,

It’s been a roller-coaster seventeen months and on the whole you’ve done a decent job. You’ve given me food and stopped me licking the plug sockets and for that, I thank you.

However, I think you’d admit yourself that a few things have been desperately below par. I hope you don’t mind but in an attempt to bring some form of order to our lives – heaven knows there’s none of that at the moment – I’ve put them into a short list.

SINGING
I appreciate the motives behind your relentlessly hideous upbeat warbling but you MUST increase your repertoire. Wheels On The Bus? Please. That was grating before my first tooth. These days I’d rather sleep in a puddle of my own hot piss than listen to your cheap crooning. You sound like a tone deaf yak copulating with an alarm clock.

And FYI - dinosaurs don’t ride the bus. Have you been taking acid?

Don’t even get me started on Old McDonald. I don’t give a flying fuck about his farm and nor should you. Get your own house in order before you start worrying about anyone else’s.

You’re like a one-hit wonder with that shit. Have you ever been to see a band and they sing their one tune early on and you just KNOW they’re gonna play it again before they finish? Well, that.

NAPPY CHANGES
You were godawful at the beginning. Fuck me, it was embarrassing to be involved. I used to lie there thinking, "This bellend’s forgotten the wipes again! Who even does that?"

Remember when you did everything perfectly but then forgot to put a new nappy on? Of course you do because you did it again the next day. I used to think I’d be better doing it myself.

In fairness, you have improved. Vastly. But I’ve changed too. I’m not going to lie still anymore – I’m going to roll, kick, stab, gauge, grab, throw, and shit on your arm whenever I can. So please, keep up.

FEEDING
Some days I like chicken, some days I don’t. Some days I like beef, today I preferred my shoe. Tomorrow I might fancy a bit of fried rubber with a side order of fuck all - who knows? I can’t help it if my tastebuds are all messed up. It’s Mother Nature, man.

It’s probably not a great idea to come at me with those monster portions either. Have you seen the size of me? I’m TINY. When you throw a plate of food down bigger than my head of course I’m gonna scream.

Mealtimes shouldn’t be a challenge. This isn’t ‘Man Vs Food’. It’s Father Vs Son and we both know who’s winning. So give me what I want and make sure that it’s ice cream.

(Also, you get very annoyed when I throw the food off the table but don’t take it personally. It’s just that sound it makes as it splatters across the kitchen floor. Glorious!)

TEACHING ME TO WALK
Okay, so I haven’t started walking properly yet. And yes, other kids have. And do you know what? I don’t give a shit. Stop stressing, I’ll get there when I’m ready.

Those early walkers at nursery have got no personality anyway.

NAPPING
Sometimes I simply do not need or want to sleep. Deal with it. Just because I’m screaming, rubbing my eyes and yawning doesn’t mean I’m tired. Most of the time I’m just fuming that yet again, you’ve taken me away from playtime.

There’s so much entertainment to be seen and when you incarcerate me in my cot I’m missing all the crucial parts. That mirror in the hallway? Incredible. Slapping the window sill? Priceless. Interrupting you on the toilet? NEVER GETS OLD!

By the time I get to your decrepid age I’ll probably also be jaded by experience and weakened by over exposure to the world. But you must understand, this place is the most insane party since I left those disgusting loins of yours.

Anyway, why don’t *you* get more sleep if it’s so important?

SO LET'S DO A QUICK RECAP SHALL WE?

I’m learning a new language, eating food I don’t like, figuring out how to walk, my teeth are killing me and if I need a poo I just have to go in my pants. IS IT ANY SURPRISE I GET A BIT FUCKED OFF SOMETIMES?!

If you had to learn to juggle while talking Portugese and pissing yourself, I reckon you’d get a bit eggy too.

You’re a decent fella and I’m genuinely fond of you. But please, pull your finger out.

Lots of love,

Your Son x

p.s. Except with Peekaboo. I don’t know where or how you came up with that but God bless you, it’s tremendous. I’ll never grow tired of that.

(I'm a stand up comic and dad of twins. Click here to follow my blog on Facebook.)

Tuesday, 30 August 2016

5 Things I Learned as a Parent This Week (#47)

1.If you're not careful, a day of relaxed nothingness without the kids can easily morph into a 3 hour blitz of the house and a visit to the tip.

2.There's nothing weird about getting poo on my hand anymore. Which is weird in itself.

3.My new motto is 'Ah, fuck it. That'll do."

4.I'll never understand the tastebuds of a toddler: my son will eat coal but refuses chicken.

5.Our house smells like a condemned pet shop.

Finally, the highlight of my week was definitely this:

Twin 1 cries.
Twin 2 crawls to other side of room, retrieves dummy, gives to his brother.
Twin 1 settles.
Daddy gets something in his eye...

I'm a stand up comic and dad of twins. You can follow my parenting blog on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or sign up to get each new blog via email on the right hand column of my website. I also release a weekly podcast where I chat to fellow parents about what they've learned.

Wednesday, 24 August 2016

10 Things I Learned as a Parent This Week (#46)

1.Arriving somewhere EARLY with the kids will freak you out. (I expected the universe to implode.)

2.If you're on your third cup of coffee and fourth slice of pizza by 9.30am it's gonna be a long day.

3.Those happy toddlers enjoying ALL their food in the recipe books are CGI, right?

4.When my wife dresses the kids she picks the nicest outfit. When I dress them I pick whatever goes on easiest.

5.It's entirely possible to be so exhausted that you drop a biscuit and call it a c**t.

6.I feel sorry for the snail in our outside bin. Trapped in a pit full of rancid nappies and broken dreams.

7.They should change the name of Teddy Bears Picnic to 'Let's Wreck Daddy's Trousers'

8.Minging food on a floor is more appetising to a toddler than haute cuisine on a plate.

9.I'm pleased my kids are showing an interest in books, if only they wanted to read more than the same two ALL THE TIME.

10.As a parent I've actually listened to the training schedule that Olympians keep and thought, 'IS THAT ALL?'

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Saturday, 20 August 2016

My Toddler Won't Eat and It's Stressing Me Out


*I finish making lunch*

Okay, food is ready. God, that took me ages. Is it even worth it? I suppose we’ll find out.

He NEEDs to eat this meal. How can anyone survive on toast? Toast and biscuits. He’s like a bloody student already.

Wish he’d stop screaming. Although he’s probably hungry, hasn’t eaten properly in a week.

I’m not gonna give him a drink yet, sometimes that puts him off. I think it does anyway. Maybe it just puts me off? What if he’s thirsty though? I know, I’ll make the drink but hide it on the other side of the oven. Perfect.

Now, shall I have the food ready for him on the table when I put him in his seat? Or should I bring it over when he’s sat down, like a dishevvelled waiter?

Too many choices. Feel like I’m cracking a puzzle.

*puts son in highchair*

He’s crying already, haven’t even showed him the food yet. Must be because he’s hungry, right?

I’m nervous. This is more stressful than a credit check.

Here we go - smiley face, happy singing and now for the big reveal…TUNA LASAGNA!!!

*boy screams even harder*

Oh, fuck. That’s a bad start. He does like this stuff though, maybe he’s forgotten. Let’s get a little spoonful first shall we? Here we go and…

*son turns his head away from the spoon*

Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not again. Stay calm, he’ll sense it. Show him the bowl.

*son glares at food*

Christ, he looked at that food like it owed him money. Not a great sign. Might as well try the aeroplane spoon trick.

*Does aeroplane spoon trick*

Nope. Never works. Don’t even know why I still try it. Even when I was a baby I remember thinking that was shit.

If I can just get him to taste it, he’ll remember he likes it.

Fair play to him, he’s a stubborn little sod. That’ll help him go far in life. I think. Will it? Or is it the worst quality you can have?  Either way, he’ll need to eat the odd meal whatever he does.

THAT DOESN’T MATTER RIGHT NOW! Let’s just get him to eat this small and lovingly prepared portion of fucking lasagna.

Is it too hot? Too cold? Too just-the-right-temperature? I didn’t realise Goldilocks was based on true events.

Let’s try the dummy move. I’ll hold the dummy out, he’ll open his mouth and then BOOM - I’ll switch the dummy for a spoon of tasty, nutritious food. Never fails.

Here goes.

*tries dummy trick*

Well that was a fucking disaster. I’m wearing more food than he’s eaten in the last two days.

Need to calm him down.

It’s okay little man! Don’t worry, daddy’s just getting a bit worried about you. Would you like some food?

*son screams until he starts coughing*

I think that’s a no.

He’s not accepting a small spoonful, might as well go for a massive one.

*heaps spoon up*

What a surprise, that didn’t work either.

I just need to get some food into his mouth. He’ll taste it and everything will be fine.

*moves spoon towards sons mouth, son bobs and weaves like a prize fighter avoiding a jab*

This isn’t what I expected. All those books I read, where was the chapter entitled ‘Force Feeding Your Screaming Child While You Hold Back Your Own Tears’?

Sometimes I think it’d be easier to plug him back into his mum for a few days.

Let’s have another go. My god, this is impossible, should be a parlour game.

“Hey guys! Who fancies a quick round of ‘Feed The Uncooperative Baby’ with me?”

It’d make a great iPhone app.

What if I hold the spoon still, will he accidentally move his mouth into it?

*son screams blue murder until a small particle of lasagna touches his lip and then he stops, considers the situation momentarily and then opens his mouth*

YES! We’re in. Come on! Feel like I’ve cracked a safe.

*loads big spoonfuls in as quickly as possible, making up for lost time*

Must maintain eye contact. Don’t change sitting position. Keep everything EXACTLY as it is till he’s finished. Any change in circumstance could ruin everything.

My god, this feels so good. Every mouthful he has I can feel stress leaving my shoulders.

See! You love this stuff little man! Nom, nom, nom!

*slight cry from son*

Oh shit, sorry. Stay focused.

He’s probably ready for that drink now.

*grabs his drink from other side of oven*

Here we go mate. Wow, he was thirsty.

Okay, next spoonful.

*son refuses food and starts screaming again*

Oh no. I’ve fucked it. It’s snakes and ladders, one false move and you’re back to the start.

What did that article say? Stay calm? How the fuck are you supposed to stay calm when the person you love most in the world hasn’t eaten properly for five days?

PLEASE eat some more, son. For daddy? In fact, for yourself. You NEED food to survive, mate. Please?

*tries to jam spoon in son’s mouth again*

How can you go off food in the middle of a meal? He loved this fifteen seconds ago and now it’s offensive to his tastebuds. He’s fussier than that Princess with the pea.

And now he’s eating the table cloth. Great. The food I spent half an hour making for him is foul but the £3 tablecloth from Wilkos is strangely delicious.

I wish I was this honest in restaurants. Next time food comes over I don’t fancy, instead of being terribly British and suffering quietly I’m gonna lash my drink at the wall, throw my body backwards and scream like someone’s hacking my arm off.

Ah, fuck it. Might as well eat this myself. No wonder I’m getting fat.

*tucks into food while sobbing*

I'm a stand up comic and dad to twin boys. Follow my blog on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or check out my parents podcast.