Stay at home dad

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!

Loser

Second place is first loser...

No prizes for second place....

I could go on. The shame, the embarassment. Did I come second.? err.. no. Did I come third.? err.. no. Did I come fourth.? err.. yes. Apparently it was a close run thing between third and fourth but I think the bearer of the bad news was just trying to make me feel better.

It's almost as bad as coming fourth out of fifth in the fresh produce section of the Village fete a few years back: even though in that case I did get highly commended. Anyway, all the others cheated in that competition as my courgettes were definitely within the prescribed six inch limit and ALL the others placed above me were over six inches and should have been disqualified (I know 'cos I measured them all..).

Anyway, I didn't come last, I was fourth out of five. And, some people did vote for me! Maybe there is some future for me as a school governor.

Ah.. well, their loss. I shall simply have to turn my skills to making money rather than giving my time away for free.

Vote SAHD !

VOTE 'SAHD' FOR A BETTER FUTURE..

And so begins my life in politics.

Never have I thought I would become embroiled in politics. Far too many skeletons in my closet to come out on the front page of NOTW or another red top: just when I'd announced some huge new policy about 'family friendly policies' there would be the obligatory ' [ XXXX ] IN COCAINE AND HIGH CLASS HOOKER SHAME ' story which, of course, would do wonders for my street cred but may somewhat undermine my credibility as the consumate family man politician... so, no, never in a million years would I stand for election as an MP.

So what the hell am I on about?

School Governor vacancies of course. Yes, I decided to put my head above the parapet and see if I can do something useful with my professional qualification that I no longer use in corporate world. So here is my manifesto, word for word:

"Are you tired of being treated like an idiot? Are you sick to death of being patronised, cheated out of your rights and being trampled on my faceless bureaucrats? YES? Well then VOTE 'SAHD' for a brighter future...."

I feel I have pressed all the right buttons with this heartfelt and meaningful statement and so far the polls in the school yard are looking quite positive. I think my main rival can be disabled quite easily and I have begun the school yard whispering campaign already.. I have planted the seeds carefully and in the right place with perfect little vignettes like this:

"You know [xxx] bats for the wrong side don't you...bit of a left-footer - know what I mean ??"

Or my personal favourite:

"[xxx]'s daughter in year [ ] brought nits into the school, [y] told me..! no honestly.."

So it's going pretty well. Except that is, that absolutely no one knows who I am. I think it unlikely I will get any votes except for Mrs.SAHD and maybe the gang, i.e. the bentley massif's mums. I'm not sure GiGi knows my full name either so I can't even rely on her ! quelle domage.

So let me just leave you with my final campaign message:

STRENGTH OF PURPOSE LADLED WITH DOLLOPS OF COMMON SENSE?

NATURAL OOZING INTELLECT BRED ON PURE COUNTRY LIVING?

RIPE FRESH IDEAS ON A HOMEBAKED MERINGUE OF CONSCIENTIOUSNESS?

THIS IS NOT JUST ANY OLD CANDIDATE THIS IS A 'SAHD' CANDIDATE.

The dark side

Found myself (re)turning to the darkside for one exclusive day this week.

Yes! me the unemployed one did a days work. God it was hell. Fretting the night before as to whether I could still do it, waking up early and not being able to 1.) find my cufflinks; and 2.) fit into my suit trousers (anymore...).

Into the car for a journey on the awesome British motorway network. Late leaving as usual and then just five minutes from home traffic traffic traffic... aarrgghhh..! I literally felt my cortisol levels rising as the great return to work adventure began.

Things began to smooth out after that as the road cleared and for once I had some clear thinking time as I listened to Radio 4. I had forgotten the pleasure to be had from simply driving and listening to the radio with ones own thoughts for company rather than the thoughts of a gobby four year old.

Going to a 'meeting' was quite weird. I had to speak GROWN UP again and not four year old speak interspersed with gun noises and power ranger kicking actions. I had to think about what I said and engage some rather rusty parts of my brain once again in order to deliver the goods metaphorically speaking.

Actually, the act of having to concentrate on something for a few hours was quite pleasant in the way a change of scenery or position is: it's not that the activity is particularly enjoyable but it is simply a change from the norm, a time for other parts of the body and brain to re-activate.

Ahhh... but what did I miss? Well, when the returning warrior (...ahem... that's me ok?) walked back through the door I had Little Prince all over me with questions, stories from the day and an obvious sense that he's missed me! That beats all the other feelings, tremendous. It also makes me appreciate my life more too and reminds me that Mrs.SAHD has her hands full in corporate world.

Top ten family cars

With a twist... the twist being my penchant for performance cars. I mean why compromise if you don't have to?

1. Subaru Forester STI

All the practicality of an SUV with the heart of the impreza STI (i.e. the super-impreza). Need I say more? And relatively cheap compared to the opposition - just don't expect leather and walnut dash and soft touch cup holders...

2. Audi RS4 Avant

The wealthy father's choice. 420 bhp of V8 turbo power delivered through Audi's excellent new quattro system with the usual fantastic Audi interior. The car we would probably all drive if we had 50 grand to spare. Sit in an RS4 and say Wow!

3. Porsche Cayenne Turbo

Slight image problem with this one but none the less a fabulous car. Shame about the looks. Cayenne 'S's (sporty version but not as fast as the turbo) now becoming pretty affordable at about three years of age. Feel superior on the road in your porsche, just don't blame me if someone throws the odd egg at you as you whoosh past.

4. Range Rover Sport

Again, a slight image problem here. Same chassis as the new 'Disco' just powered by a supercharged V8. Usually seen driven erratically on the M25 by footballers or gangsters. To be avoided. Egg throwing rating is pretty high.

5. BMW X5

Why is it that every car I choose has a slight image problem (except the Audi)? This is the newer better faster X5. Sadly, the old model has now become affordable to all and sundry and is known either as a drug dealers mobile office or an aggressive yuppy mobile (Sorry CP !!).

6. BMW 535 D Touring

What??? I hear you say, a DIESEL in a list of performance cars. Ahh well hang on there a second, this is no ordinary diesel. The word here is 'torque'. This is a beast, a fabulous Q-car. Undercoverlover. Call it what you like, AND does high 30s mpg !

7. Mercedes C63 AMG estate

I can only find this large shot of this beasty. This is Mercedes answer to Audi's RS4. More power and suspension tweaks from Mercedes tuning house. This ridiculously powerful car puts out 451 bhp from its V8 and re-defines the 'fast estate' category. Where will the ridiculous quest to produce the most powerful car go next??

Oh I know... see below

8. Audi RS6 Avant

Now you thought the old version RS6 Avant putting out 450 bhp from its twin turbo charged 4.2l V8 was alot? So what do you make of this:

Audi's second showing in this list and what a stunner! Only marked down by the unbelievable price tag. 5.2 L V10 engine producing some 580 bhp. You get gorgeous Audi interior and practicality with the engine from the Lambo, perhaps this replaces the RS4 as topping the wish list. Let's see how the first write ups go as older fast Audis had a reputation for outrageous pace but poor ride and handling.

9. Audi S4 Avant

Third Audi on the list. Ok I come clean and admit I have a thing about fast Audi estates. This is back in the slightly more real world.

344 bhp from a normally aspirated 4.2l V8. Fast, refined, superb interior and practical. What more could you want? perhaps some better mpg figures!

10. Porsche 911

OK I admit you might take some persuading that this is a practical family car but please bear with me.

Let's look at the evidence: Four seats? tick. Big boot? tick (as long as you don't buy the 4WD version!). Reliable? tick. Performance car? tick. If you have more than two children over the age of five then perhaps this is not the car for you but otherwise I vote this the most practical family performance car out there... with just a pinch of salt thrown in..!