Didsburydad's Blog

From the not so mean streets of M20, blog about being a dad, Didsbury and dealing with parental confusion

Family Planning v Forward Planning

Didsbury Son, year 7 and therefore the font of sound bite malapropisms and mistruths, is going on a school trip next week. He has five days in France and the potential for calamity with two dozen pre-pubescent Kevin &. Perry know-nothings is sick. Like y’know basically, sorta, kinda massive.
Five days and although I’ll miss him, it will be in a dad way. The odd shrug, no one to blame for anything and having to go upstairs to get the things I have left there by myself.

Up to five months ago I would have been anxiously trying not to overplay my excitement at having no parental duties for fear of incurring maternal guilt and separation wrath; it is very powerful. This time, I assumed would be Yin and Yang. The yin of the not picking anything off the floor or having to watch Top Gear versus the Yang of a distraught mother whose only solace to assuage the heartache can be found at John Lewis. The yin wins but…

I had not thought this through. Now there are baby twins. Five months old, beautiful, smiling bundles of happiness. Squealing, laughing, dribbling, nappy-filling time thieves. The hours I spend gazing, gurgling, stroking and sniffing them uses up all my non-work non sterilising time. Their arrival has taken Didsbury Wife from proud protective mother to being a lioness of the Focaccia Velt where we live.

Now I have five days of Didsbury Wife worrying about Didsbury Son and I have no one to make stupid jokes about the babies with. No one to laugh when I dress them upside down or waft their fruitier nappies like a pomander. Most worryingly, no one to keep an eye on them during my shift when I need to make a brew/have a wee or look in the mirror to stare at the 50 Shades of Grey under my eyes.

I am left to pray for specific help. I hope it warms up. I wince at the thought of turning on the news to see Didsbury Son waving from the top of the Eiffel Tower and more than all this – please let delicate baby girl and The Mighty Headed Baby Boy gives up the hourly fight and sleep between News at Ten and CBeebies.

Talk to the head because the hand ain’t listening. It’s just us three and Wibbly Pig for the next five days.

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