Stay at home dad

Hangovers and children part 1

It had something to do with the decadence of drinking Louis Latour Meursault in vast quantities whilst nibbling on the best soft cheeses from Normandie. It had something to do with meeting up with close family for the first time in at least a month. Whatever, the result is the same: one big slamming headache.

Now we all know that a hangover nursed on your own is a torture. I employ various strategies ranging from bacon to berocca, however, on your own some how you can make it through.... you just feel sorry for yourself and around about 5pm the world starts to look better again...

Not so with children. LP woke up at 5am this morning: he on one sofa in a sleeping bag, me on the other one dry mouthed and fuzzy. Naturally, LP normally sleeps like a sloth and we have to wake him up but no today, of all days, he wakes up at 5am asking me, "Why have you got stinky wine breath daddy??"

Thanks buddy.

Gathering storm...

Remember I told you some time back that Mrs.SAHD was pregnant? Well time has well and truly moved on and we're looking down the barrel of new parenthood some point in June.

I think most of the early part of this year I have managed not to think about the consequences. LP has been interested but in a high level theoretical sort of way. Now there is no mistaking the size of Mrs.SAHD nor the strange angular shapes that her stomach makes whilst she reclines on the sofa watching 'stenders.

LP's interest level has gone up a notch and now we talk openly about the 'NEW BABY'. I think LP is excited but I'm not quite sure he is ready for his mummy and daddy love to be cut, precisely, in half. I'm not sure that either of us SAHD-Os are quite sure what to expect either. I mean it has been five years since LP was ripped bloody from his mother's caesarian scar, looking like a pink angry yoda.

Actually, come to think of it, LP has only started to get really interested after we told him that the baby would 'probably' buy him a present. He's already chosen the required present (which somewhat takes away the surprise element but ho hum..) which is a big lego batman ..err.. thingy.

I have to go and pick up LP from school but this topic is an interesting one and so I shall re-visit it. In the meantime if you have any tips or hints for the smooth transition from 3 to 4 then we would all be very grateful.

Holiday blues

Addressing a private fear that LP and I would be stuck home alone for two weeks with no one to play with, I lined an ambitiously action packed easter holiday fortnight. I think I might have over done it as, even as I type, LP is lying on the sofa: a broken child... ! and I am just dang worn out. Worn out so I don't think this post will be more than a couple of paragraphs.

We swam every morning, visited friends, we 'lunched' every day at Wagamamas (literally..), went to London twice, visited the cousins. I ran the FLM and LP watched. Birthday parties, ice skating, cinema (Not sure that REC. was such a good film choice... still LP enjoyed it except for the nightmares ever since), London Eye, Wagamamas AGAIN and dog walking. Yes it was a busy fortnight.

Now we face the big return to school on Monday and I'm relieved! I'd forgotten what fulltime LP stewardship was like.

Actually it's been a pleasure and this kind of time spent with LP can never be repeated. See you all next week with a report on the new school term.

Spring is in the air

...and life has returned to normal in Blogley in that there are no more moves, no more exciting school beginnings and Little Prince is as snug as a bedmite in his school: the ever popular Blogley Primary. So back to normal life eh? Well... hardly. I told you in the last post that Mrs.SAHD is with calf and having looked at the baby name books I 'aint got no inspiration. What is it with baby names? My suggestion of 'Elvis' is to her suggestion of 'Peter' - we aren't even on the same page. Why can't I call my new baby foo foo wixie trixie...? I mean, if it's good enough for Sir Bob then it's good enough for SAHD baby number 2.

So the new house is ok. It's bigger and much more convenient for the SAHD family. We can ignore each other much more easily in this house than Blog Cottage. LP is as I type asleep in his palatial bedroom but, you know what? I can't help but hanker after the charms of olde worlde Blog Cottage and the amazing location it has. I just hope the new owners appreciate it and all the hard work we put into the place.

Otherwise, I'm now officially allowed to call myself a...ahem... 'consultant' as someone once memorably told me..... "All consultants do is charge you a zillion bucks to tell you exactly what you knew in the first place but were just afraid to admit .." Obviously I add a whole lot more than that now I have the whole SAHD thing to put in my toolbox. I have found it a bit of a revelation the whole going back into an office after a period of absence: Yes! I can confirm it is all a load of bollox! People sweating over computer screens talking of concalls and email backlogs and how,"....Nigel is going to be chuffing livid if I don't have the report on his desk by 5pm COP"

(COP = Close Of Play).

Anyway, I'm worth it. Just as Andi McDowell is - yet I look younger but still have more grey hair, weird huh?

So much to tell !!

Well: have you missed me? Well, have you??

Hmmmm... not convinced you have you fickle audience you.

So what's new? errrr.... quite a lot actually. The Northern Rock looks like becoming a Virgin brand business, Peter Hain is, as I type, working on his CV and most of the country is saturated, wet, damp and... ummmm my favourite word: moist. In fact I saw snow this monday. Not down south - don't be silly, 'oop norf where the wind blows colder and beer is only tuppence a pint.

So you are aware we have moved? Have I told you about the puppies? Have I told you about the puppies' car sickness??

Have I told you that Mrs.SAHD is with calf???

See? I told you a lot had happened recently.

Got you hooked again yet?

PS Why did Heath Ledger top hisself? please explain.

Goodbye Blog Cottage

Well it finally happened. It's goodbye Blog Cottage and Hello! Blotto Cottage. An apt name given the amount of champagne we've been (well...I've been..) consuming.

God what a difference a couple of days makes. Less than three days ago it was a case of 'are we aren't we?' going to be moving. Things didn't look promising and I had no answer to LP's constant questioning along the lines of:

"Is it today we are moving?"

"How many sleeps until we are moving Daddy?"

"Is it today today (!) we are moving to Blonko Cottage Daddy..?"

Well yes he was really excited and not at all phased by the whole thing. I think the promise of a playroom and a new bedroom which he can choose was all good so far as he was concerned.

The weather was shite all day of the packing and moving. Now let me tell you, forget Pilates, weight training or triathlon, if you want to keep fit and stay strong: become a removal man! I must have lifted, what, two or even three boxes but the team from the removals company were like robots charging up and down the stairs with box after box after box - you get the picture.

Mrs.SAHD said they smelt. I say give them a break, Jeez anyone would doing all that physical activity.

Frantic cleaning at Blog Cottage to welcome in the new owners, left the place spotless. After all they are still practically neighbours. They seem pleased.

Most exciting of all, LP comes home to a new home. Not just a new home but a new walk home too. Little bit worried about the massive increase in the walk to school. I mean an extra 300 metres is nearly a third of a kilometre. A long way for small legs speshly on the homeward walk after a busy day of school and chasing and annoying the older kids. Oh well we'll just have to drive .... only joking.

So we're in. We are loving the space. Blog Cottage was beautiful and we have very good memories there but this place is in a different league baby..

Anyway new challenges still exist like how on earth did we fit all that junk in such a small house and what shall we throw away or what furniture shall we buy for our FIVE bedrooms? Yeah that's right you read correctly: five bedrooms. We should rename it Blotto Manor.

Anyway enough of this drivel, off to quaff some more champers.

Cakes

Worried I am getting into this whole parenting thing too deeply. After all I'm still a man and need to retain some male traits and characteristics. Actually - don't worry too much I'm drinking a cold beer as I type this and I have just stopped scratching my undercarriage - so I think we're ok !

You see I found myself baking cakes on Thursday night for the year R cake sale which took place yesterday. Ok, Ok I did cheat a little bit as I used one of those cup cake mix jobbies, but it did involve real cooking and hot ovens, an egg or two and even white chocolate 'piping'. La-di-dah! I have to admit that the end result did look a bit amateur and the icing was sort of all over each paper cup thing but they certainly did look homemade.

I sauntered casually over to the school to see how the cake sale was going and f**k me sideways ALL of the choccy cup cakes had been sold, there was loads of other stuff still for sale but my little beauties had sold out like proverbial hot cakes (well actually just like hot cakes, they weren't proverbial).

I haven't felt that proud since I was called up in assembly aged 7 to collect my BAGA 5 award (if you have to ask you're too young or, come to think of it, too old).

So with a swelling of pride in my chest I strutted around all day finally picking up LP from a friends house where, lo and behold, LP's friend's mum had only gone and bought some of my cup cakes..! The assorted kids round her house gave them a huge thumbs up too.

Today cup cakes, tommorrow the world or battenburg cake (I haven't decided).

A brilliant round off to a successful day.

The REAL family cook book - PART 1

As promised, here is my short attempt to capture the essence of the total 'antithesis' of 'Nigella orgasms over cous cous' or 'Jamie erupts over his organic veg' (or is that meat and two veg..)

BREAKFAST

Firstly, try and contain your children and/or strap them into a seat or push chair before searching for the necessary orgasmic ingredients.

Secondly, ban all electronic devices from husbands/wives/friends or children, particularly crackberries or nintendo DS.

Next assemble your ingredients. You will need the following:

1. Bowls x number of those eating

2. spoons x number of those eating

3. Chairs x number of those eating

4. Box of cereal ...and freshly slice kumquat (only joking)

5. Milk - NB check carefully it has not curdled, a little bit of creamy deposits in your tea or cereal are acceptable, cottage cheese consistency is not.

6. Digital Radio tuned to either Radio 5 LIve or Radio 4 (no other channels allowed PARTICULARLY HEART)

7. Depending on age of children and competence of adults, either a.) allow child to pour own cereal or b.) pour child/useless adult the amount of sugary crap cereal you want them to consume to ensure you do not get reported to the NSPCC for child neglect or cruelty.

8.) Pour milk

9.) Make yourself a cup of tea. If you are feeling very cosmopolitan (or gay) make a cup of earl grey or even better Redbush / roibush, whatever, the less caffeine the gay-er.

10.) Sit back and bask in the smug glory of what an amazing domestic god/dess (delete as appropriate) you are.

11.) Make yourself a piece of toast (*** NB !! check the bread is not mouldy before placing in the Dualit* (*if you don't know what I mean darling there really isn't any hope)!!**)

12.) Check on progress of coco pops eating (DAMN! did I say coco pops??? I meant organic goji berry museli with added omega 3's and almonds (that's right folks, almonds can cure depression!)) and tear of required number of sheets of kitchen roll to mop up spillages.

13.) Unleash children /adults and  order them to go upstairs and get dressed and do their teeth.

14.) Try and figure out how you are going to get ready to take child/ren to school in time as it is now 8:25 and you still haven't shaved... ( that is if you are female of course, males can go to work and or take children to school with stubble on the chin... shame women cannot do same with stubble on legs).

15.)  Leave washing / clearing up for the TV crew and 'runners' to sort out as you sashay out smiling with the smug contentment of being a celeb chef/ wife of chef or simply some one who pretends that every meal time is sexy, earthy and goddamit - fun !

Next time : LUNCH

"Daaaarling... I am just popping out to source some large juicy squash.... GRRRRR...!"

Celebrity chefs and their chuffing cookbooks

This is a bit of a rant and a bit of dig at those glossy goddamn cook books where the likes of Nigella 'Yes I have put on weight' Lawson and Tana 'Gordon didn't help me with the recipes' Ramsay look glamorous and happy and relaxed whilst preparing, cooking and feeding their happy shiny children and wonderfully attentive husbands.... I mean just look at the expressions on their faces:

I tell you that is NOT the sort of look I normally see in the kitchen from Mrs.SAHD, the bedroom: maybe.. as I make the naked dash to get under the quilt (I wish........) but certainly not in the kitchen. And if I was ever to pull such a face to Mrs.Sahd whilst in the kitchen she would give me a right hook and send me back to work. I think they call that look 'smug' with a capital 'S'.

For example / here is a real-life example of how total bollux the whole idea is that people actually look like that in their (spotless) kitchens:

SCENE: KITCHEN

TIME: 7:55 am

I was trying desperately to listen to Nicky 'edgy' Campbell on Radio Bloke (R5L) talking to some American banking expert about the whole Northern Rock/Government loan issue and time is running out before Kid A has to be fed, pack lunch made, dressed and out of the house by 8:50... when I get double whammy with little prince demanding something to drink, NOT the apple juice I had just poured and Mrs.SAHD is questioning me about some social occasion or other in terms of times and dates... So I admit I cannot multi-task but all this actually does is stress me out.

And all I was TRYING to do was make the frigging porridge and with all this going on and, listen, this was only PORRIDGE ! Not Moroccan inspired chick pea and lamb tabouleh with fresh mint and bulgar wheat freshly cracked by the buttocks of an organic tribe high up in the Atlas mountains (ferrrgodsake).

This evening it was slightly better because I managed to captivate LP's attention with the dark arts contained on the cartoon network whilst preparing tonights amazing family meal which merges eastern cuisine with mediterranean colour... BLEURRGGHHH...

Christ knows what we'd eat if we ever had any more children. Actually I have decided this topic needs more input so next post I shall produce my own realistic version of the 'real' family cook book.

Rant over.

For now.

Parents' evening - the exclusive!

It went well.

The end.

I am very proud of LP, he is happy, confident and doing well. I feel the year at home has had a great effect on him and has made the transition to school really very easy and stressless.