Decisions, Decisions

Right, you remember me telling you that I live in Government Housing?  Yes?  Well remembered.

Well, I still do but have been posed a rather serious question.  I have been sounded out about the possibility of moving to another house.  Same place, just round the corner.

Yes, I can hear you now.  Huh?  What’s the point in that?

And to some extent, you’d be right in raising those questions.  The reason I haven’t dismissed it completely is, well, it’s new.  It’s newly refurbished.  Completely.

The houses here are not the greatest quality, you’ll be extremely lucky if you had a room that didn’t have mould in it, didn’t have a crack in it, didn’t have anything in need of repair.  Now, we’ve been in our house for nigh on seven years, with both children growing up in it, but it is these children that I am tempted.  Surely in an updated house these factors would have been rectified, giving you a couple of years at least before you have to get the demoulder and bleach out.  Health and safety.

But, it is is two minutes from where we are.  It is a tough decision and I don’t like making decisions!

If you had the same decision what would you do?  Would you stay where you have been for many years or would you move round the corner to a new house?

What to do?


Maybe I am a good Father?!

Well, here we are.  It’s Sunday night.

I have managed to make it to the end of the weekend and all three of us are still in one piece.  It’s lucky I don’t have hair otherwise I would have pulled it out.

Actually, I’m quite surprised that it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.  The children were actually remarkably well behaved.  There were a few tears and bouts of crying at the beginning, but I was fine after an hour.

There was also a brief sticky moment on the first night when whilst putting the eldest to bed she turns and asks ‘where’s Mummy’.  My first instinct is to reply, ‘she’s run off with the milkman and joined the circus.  She lives in a trailer now’.  But I stopped myself before it was too late, she would never have believed me.

We don’t have a milkman.

The worst of it all was the Saturday.  One whole day of responsibility, what was I going to do?!

Well, I tried my best but in the end I have to thank Disney for it’s help, I couldn’t have done it without them.

I know, I know.  Don’t start. Television is not the answer and does not make a good childcare attendant but hey, I’m inexperienced and somewhat desperate, so I don’t care what you think.  The kids loved it so I’m happy.  It’s not like I sat them in front of the telly and went out for a couple of hours, I was actually in the same room!

Anyway, all things considered I think what I’ll take away from all this is proof.  Proof that I am actually a good daddy and that I can look after my own kids.

Sounds daft to say that, but it’s true, you always have the nagging doubt in the mind that if a situation came around and I had to be a lone parent (only for a day hopefully), would I be able to cope?  I think that I can confidently say that I could do it.  I could be the responsible one.

Ooh, it’s gone all Springer.  ‘My thought for the day…………………….’

The Simpsons


So Far, So………

Ok, it’s the evening. I’ve made it this far!

At this precise moment I have two children in bed. One asleep, kinda, and one who refuses. Just wants to talk.

I knew it was going too swimmingly. I mean, I fed and watered them, entertained them and even managed to bath a wriggly four month old. All on my own!

No, wait, there’s no need for a medal.

I don’t mind a bit of restlessness tonight, as long as I get a bit of sleep. Otherwise tomorrow is going to be unbearable.

Oh well, tomorrow’s another day. A long day, probably.

Wish me luck.

D-Day: Child Minding

Can I cope? Yes.
Have I done this before? No.
Am I looking forward to it? Not really.

Starting half hour ago, I am the lone guardian of two children for the weekend. Yes, they’re mine, but I’ve never been left on my own with them for that long!

Three years old and four months old. This is going to be tough, I think.

Right, the story. The missus is going on a hen weekend to Brighton. I don’t mind, in fact I encouraged it. And paid for it.

I think she’ll have fun. Apart from childbirth, in all the 5+ years we’ve been married and the several other years we’ve been together, I don’t think we’ve spent time apart.

Sad, I know. And it’s also not for the want of trying, she just wouldn’t let me leave!!

As I’ve said before, we live in the middle of nowhere so can’t just ‘go out’. Especially now with the kids, it’s now a military operation just to go shopping!

I digress.

I’m the lone adult. One weekend.

Thank god for Disney and cbeebies……


A different mindset

Having a baby changes the way you view your in-laws, I love it when they come to visit now. They can hold the baby, and I can go out
– Matthew Broderick

Yes, I know I posted this seperately, but after I did, I didn’t think that I could leave it at that.

Isn’t this evidence of how a mind can change?  It’s amazing that one instance, albeit a huge one, can change your outlook completely. 

I used to be one of these people that never really enjoyed the company of others, to a certain degree.  I’m not a hermit, nor am I anti-social, I just prefer to have things on my terms.  But when someone turns up at your door expecting a cup of tea, my mindset is automatically ‘set to stun’.

Don’t get me wrong, I can turn on the charm and politeness in an instant, but half the time I can never be bothered.  But now, if I hear of anybody planning on visiting or meeting ‘by chance’ whilst out, the first thought I have is, ‘will they look after this child of mine while I slip to the pub / shop / park bench for peace (delete as appropriate).

Now, I’m sure that I can’t be the only one to think like this. 

Really??  Just me??