Didsburydad's Blog

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

Archive for the tag “Big Bang Theory”

10 Ways Becoming a dad changes everything

There are more than 10, most are quite dull but some surprise me. When I first became a Didsbury Dad (well once I’d had coffee, flavoured vodka and some kind of olive oil based poncey bread) a few things clicked into place.

In her just published novel “Animals” (which is superb), Emma Jane Unsworth has a character whose response to a close friend’s pregnancy is “… Another one lost for a decade”. I read this, gulped and nodded in recognition. I have friends who, in my mind are at the end of a phone knowing I’m swamped, happy and knackered. In reality they have scrubbed me off all lists as the ignorant one who dumped them once he had kids. This mirrors my pre-Didsbury Dad thoughts. How busy, tired, obsessed, sappy and dull can you be for a small screaming ankle biter who removes the opportunity for the epicurean nature on which you have thrived? The answer is personal.

1. A big night out: after bath time, I popped out for an early drink at the Fletcher Moss and delayed bedtime until after 7.30 PM.

2. A really big night out: you get a babysitter (double rate for twins) and after the second drink you realise you are exhausted, have little adult conversation and are really wondering if the babysitter would watch the boddlers if you came home and grabbed a couple of hours un-disturbed sleep.

3. An allnighter: the milk, dummy, singing, rocking and Calpol have all failed and you are watching repeats of Columbo whilst reading Incy Wincy Spider on a five minute rotation to a wired boddlers crying and laughing like a prom-night teenager.

4. You go to Boots for creams and lotions, none of them are for pleasure – all of them are medically based.

5. That tune that won’t leave your head. It’s not the one that brought the night to a crescendo – it’s 64 Zoo Lane and you cannot stop humming.

6. You still look lovingly at your partner and think “I hope they are in the mood for an early night” but you mean will you let me go to bed and go in the spare room so I’m not disturbed.

7. You fill up watching One Born Every Minute

8. You suddenly realise how see-through kids are and how much more patient your own Didsbury Dad was.

9. Staying in is the new going out.

10. You start to have opinions about things you have never cared about. Last week there was a seismic shift. The actual topic is irrelevant, it was what it meant. We were watching Master Chef (Big Bang Theory for adults) and Didsbury Wife asked me what I was thinking. All men know that this is normally a cause for concern as you are either thinking about nothing, football, nothing, somebody inappropriate, nothing, whether Eddie Murphy was convincing in “Coming to America” or nothing.
Without pause I was able to share my ideas around a child development issue. Halfway through my speech the enormity of this hit me and I asked for an early night.

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Boddlers – the hot new trend for 2014

2013, the magazines’ review of the year on Sunday was a depressing litany of global, regional and personal misery. Same pictures, different year. Not one mentioned the tragedy of Nido. In the few months it wheezed lifelessly in Didsbury Village, haemorrhaging cash at such a rate they may as well have offered free food and a Twenty to anyone who braved the restaurant formerly known as a successful kebab shop. Cameron – J’Accuse ( for no specific reason – just can’t trust someone who has no clear bone structure and admits to being a friend of George Osborne).

I have learned a lot this year. Mainly that you need your personal bubble away from the depressing interference of devices and reality. Mine is in Didsbury, surrounded by Didsbury Wife and my three wishes. Here is my précis.

1. Wording is vital with Didsbury Son. He is year 8, sliding inconsistently into teenage years and still as lovely as his 6 year old self ( most of the time). However, the combination of made up facts, half listened to and less than half understood rationale in most descriptions is almost worthy of its own exclamation mark *

* I have a personal mistrust of exclamation marks and find their use offensive.

2. I have become soppier than I ever imagined. I am now the softest touch ever for any story or charity. My donation to Middle-Class Children Without a PS4 was from the heart; I fill up every time Didsbury Wife dresses the twins in my club ‘s colours and I even noticed a tilty -headed smile at a newborn last week. It needs to be checked.

3. There is a sound worse than than the “pop’ of a dummy falling out of mouth into the dark. It is the sound of the Pearl-Headed girl when at 5am and she has woken. In stultified moves you have cooed, hummed and rocked. You hear breathing slow and feel moving still and then… Just as you relax into a dreamless, but essential hour’s sleep you hear “Hiya”. It snakes out of the darkness, heralding a further bout of hand-holding, soother moving, humming and rocking more draining than a Big Bang Theoryathon

3. Two charging boddlers** means Cafe Rouge is once again the retreat of choice as Cafe Nero’s spacious baby change, free babychinos and lovely staff are superseded by Rouge’s boddler friendly roominess and toy stash; although the bebechino is 50p

** the crossover between baby and toddler

4. There is nothing like a dame.

5. Didsbury Son’s knowledge of how to work anything with a screen now outstrips mine to such an extent I keep wanting to show him how a video recorder works.

6, Hipp Organics Vegetable Lasagne and Ravioli are perfect hangover cures or a watching the match snack.

7. The best way to alleviate the crushing tiredness is to have one baby on each knee and play ” this little piggy”. It’s cheaper than Red Bull and doesn’t have the aftertaste.

8. If you have shares in Boots you owe me a thank you at the very least. If you have shares in Co-Op you’ve been had.

9. I have lost the TV. It moves seamlessly from CBeebies to Star Wars / E4 American Sitcom. I know my place.

10. I am very lucky to be a Didsbury Dad.

Happy New to you all and may 2014 bring you health, happiness and if you desire it, wealth

Solitude, a fleeting desire

All three Didsbury Babies are back safe with a heroic and tired Didsbury Wife.

I had to cut short a family holiday to work at whatever it is I do for a few days, just as the Premier League season started. This devastating blow and awful timing meant I had to leave our holiday accomodation. A diminutive stable where crying babies echo and there is no downstairs. With only peace, quiet and four live matches over 3 days to comfort me it was hell. Quiet, uninterrupted, hot cup of tea, asleep at 3, 4, 5 and 6am hell. I saw things I had not seen for months – the whole of the floor, a TV programme that was not Big Bang Theory or How I Met Your Mother.
This terrible, serene, uncluttered few days with just the drone of 5Live for early morning company and good coffee on the go got so bad I read a whole newspaper and went to the gym (not just the car park for 10 minutes sleep).

So thank The Lord they are back. My pearl-headed baby girl blessed me by screaming just as tonight’s football reached a climax. The Mighty-Headed boy swivelled like Torvill or Dean through a nappy change to the extent that I could feel beads of sweat on my temples and Didsbury Son gave him 5.8 for artistic interpretation.

Didsbury Son has deigned to spend time with us occasionally when batteries have run out and the house looks like a Toys R Us frat party; business as usual and lovely to be back in the middle of it all.

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Timmy Time, Ziggy Marley and the power of CBeebies

What do you call a parent who never uses TV as a filler whilst taking 5 to make a brew, go for a wee or  count lines and grey hairs?
You don’t.
They are either lying or they are the kind of uber-organised automaton that can do Year 7 maths homework without flinching and has never popped a dummy in their mouth to clean it. (Sshh, that’s just between us. )

Didsbury Son is hooked on Cartoon Network and Adventure Time, the Adventures of Gumball and The Regular Show. I silently pine for the times we would curl up to watch The Simpsons. I snipe at the cartoons whilst secretly enjoying their absurdist dreamlike core.

What Timmy might look like if he was real

What Timmy might look like if he was real

I was influenced by Scooby Doo, a scared Great Dane who ate processed garbage fed to him by his stoned owner. They held long conversations and the stoner dressed poor Scooby in a range of inappropriate outfits and put him in danger. I believe my love of Scooby and his deformed nephew Scrappy negates any option I may have to pass comment on Didsbury Son’s mesmeric viewing. He has inherited the male gene to stare endlessly, without judgement at anything animated or non-educational. Take a bow men, Lord Reith, I blame you for not inventing Ren & Stimpy earlier.

This staring gene is universal. The twins love a bit of CBeeBies. They may only be 5 months old but Smiley girl chuckles along to the odd programme whilst preferring staring at the light out of the window and The Mighty-Headed boy (60% head, 100% Didsbury) can zone out for a good half hour (  the baby equivalent of a whole day spent in bed watching Big Bang Theory or Lovejoy).

I am concerned. CBeeBies projects a world which worries me on many fronts. Take Mike The Knight, he is an idiot. On the one hand he always realises he has been a fool and that the dragons/trolls/his sister/anything else was right. On the other, his portrayal of feudal patronage, animal cruelty and a male-dominated society where women merely cook and clean is one that gives my baby boy false expectations; and the voice is so annoying I pray the dragons will get fed up and eat him.

CBeebies documentary about swans held in prison without trial in Cheshire really struck a chord

CBeebies documentary about swans held in prison without trial in Cheshire really struck a chord

Postman Pat has to be 80. I know the post office has made cuts but surely someone should relieve him. It’s the saddest documentary I have ever seen. His only companion is a stuffed cat he thinks is real and the sap in the local train station keeps giving him work, he keeps getting it wrong. Richard Branson, Adam Crozier – sort out your staff.
Where is Tilly’s parent/guardian? She hangs out with an elephant, a pig, a chicken and a crocodile. Where do Child Services think they are up to? If the elephant doesn’t crush her then pain awaits. This is not Life of Pi. and she is only six years old. The pig and chicken are gonners. RIP Porky and Licken but please, someone – save her. Pingu. You make Iggle Piggle seem like Stephen Fry.
These are the tip of a very tall iceberg. The Octonauts flout the Laws of Physics and Bernard Cribbins thinks he is called Jack and talks to a glove. At times it is heartbreaking.
There is a saving grace. A very beautiful saving grace, Timmy. Timmy is a little lamb with a lot inside and I, smiley baby girl and deep thinking baby boy love him. Even Didsbury Son loves Timmy and Didsbury Wife and I have given up Moussaka. Timmy is the son of Shaun the Sheep. I’m not sure who his mother is but I don’t think it’s the one who tried to kill Shaun for having the wrong trousers. Timmy is a ram amongst lambs, an organic fillet amid horsemeat fillings, a Babe the pig sheep in the farmyard. Timmy and his little friends have innocent fun and wipe away the sour taste that the rudderless Tilly and the tiresome Mike the Knight leave in the mouths of my innocent babies.

Timmy, It's Timmy. He's a little lamb with a lot inside - but not served with tzatziki in this house

Timmy, It’s Timmy. He’s a little lamb with a lot inside – but not served with tzatziki in this house

Thomas, stay in your train garage – you are not welcome here. This house dances to the rhythm of Rastamouse, 3rd and Bird (particularly the Ziggy Marley episode) and the glorious Timmy Time.

 

How the Higgs Boson was found in Didsbury Village

The news has all been (apart from Andy Murray and the weather and Barclays and Didsbury Son’s School Play ) Higgs Boson this, CERN that, Physicists from around the world blah blah. They’ve all missed a trick and wasted money.

The Avataresque set they have built under a ski slope near Geneva, where Tefal heads play ping pong with imaginary marbles could have been built here in the capital of Barbers, Charity Shops and Coffee concessions.

The God Particle may be a perjorative term but within the confines of Didsbury ( real Didsbury, not Estate Agents) we have all the god, spirituality, present and ex-past media moguls and university lecturers to unearth the smallest of particles.

First a quick history of CERN. Why CERN? Why Switzerland ? Why bother?

The Americans (represented by TFI Fridays in Cheadle) were in a race with The Japanese (Samsi opposite The Red Lion) . *Although Samsi is still in M20 and the California Rolls are to die for, it is Withington not Didsbury. The race was something to do with Big Bang Theory and writing a follow-up for Brian Cox and Lassana Diara O’Briain.

Still with me? You get 10 credits for an MA in Costa after this.

Europe (Didsbury) got wind of the Japanese v Americans battle and knew we could find Higgs Boson’s God Particle first if we pulled together. With WestFest, Cav Fest, Didsbury Arts Festival and a new bar on Burton Road how could we fail? We (Didsbury / CERN) beat the Asian/North American efforts with the same tenacity Douglas Bader showed in Reach for the Skies.

Higgs missed the collaborative God-inspired particles that the Didsbury Mosque, St. James & Emmanuel, St. Catherine’s, Queens Road Synagogue combined with Fog Lane Park, Healthy Spirit and the MMU Library could create.

If they had arranged for Didsbury’s Primary School mothers to create a chain around Didsbury and awarded an Airy Fairy Cup Cake to the fastest runner we could have created the conditions that the CERN saps spent a Premier League debt creating; easy.

To put the Higgs Boson in easily understandable terms it’s like this.

At CERN (which is a bit like Didsbury Scout Hut) they built a particle accelerator called the Large Hadron Collider. This was in collaboration with Sure Start and The Rotary Club and made its debut at 2008 Didsbury Festival.

It is the accelerator that has enabled the discovery of the Higgs Boson. (A boson is a type of Hadron), Didsbury Wife told me this and that it goes through France as well as Switzerland ( that’s South Didsbury according to Reeds Rains).

The existence of the particle proves that before Zizzi was the least successful Japanese restaurant cum gothic disaster ever. Before that the Clocktower, The Orange Tree, The Old Grey Horse and at the start of time – The Cavalcade.

This proves creationist theory that to make a decent Lamb Shank get the lamb from Axons.

It explains why, seconds after The Big Bang a charity shop opened in Wilmslow Road and means all we have left to discover is what the shop next to No 4. On Warburton Street actually sells.

Next week: pandas procreate after a day out at Fletcher Moss. “coffee and cake at Fusion Deli sealed the deal.” says delighted Zookeeper

How the Higgs Boson was found in Didsbury Village

The news has all been (apart from Andy Murray and the weather and Barclays and Didsbury Son’s School Play ) Higgs Boson this, CERN that, Physicists from around the world blah blah. They’ve all missed a trick and wasted money.

The Avataresque set they have built under a ski slope near Geneva, where Tefal heads play ping pong with imaginary marbles could have been built here in the capital of Barbers, Charity Shops and Coffee concessions.

The God Particle may be a perjorative term but within the confines of Didsbury ( real Didsbury, not Estate Agents) we have all the god, spirituality, present and ex-past media moguls and university lecturers to unearth the smallest of particles.

First a quick history of CERN. Why CERN? Why Switzerland ? Why bother?

The Americans (represented by TFI Fridays in Cheadle) were in a race with The Japanese (Samsi opposite The Red Lion) . *Although Samsi is still in M20 and the California Rolls are to die for, it is Withington not Didsbury. The race was something to do with Big Bang Theory and writing a follow-up for Brian Cox and Lassana Diara O’Briain.

Still with me? You get 10 credits for an MA in Costa after this.

Europe (Didsbury) got wind of the Japanese v Americans battle and knew we could find Higgs Boson’s God Particle first if we pulled together. With WestFest, Cav Fest, Didsbury Arts Festival and a new bar on Burton Road how could we fail? We (Didsbury / CERN) beat the Asian/North American efforts with the same tenacity Douglas Bader showed in Reach for the Skies.

Higgs missed the collaborative God-inspired particles that the Didsbury Mosque, St. James & Emmanuel, St. Catherine’s, Queens Road Synagogue combined with Fog Lane Park, Healthy Spirit and the MMU Library could create.

If they had arranged for Didsbury’s Primary School mothers to create a chain around Didsbury and awarded an Airy Fairy Cup Cake to the fastest runner we could have created the conditions that the CERN saps spent a Premier League debt creating; easy.

To put the Higgs Boson in easily understandable terms it’s like this.

At CERN (which is a bit like Didsbury Scout Hut) they built a particle accelerator called the Large Hadron Collider. This was in collaboration with Sure Start and The Rotary Club and made its debut at 2008 Didsbury Festival.

It is the accelerator that has enabled the discovery of the Higgs Boson. (A boson is a type of Hadron), Didsbury Wife told me this and that it goes through France as well as Switzerland ( that’s South Didsbury according to Reeds Rains).

The existence of the particle proves that before Zizzi was the least successful Japanese restaurant cum gothic disaster ever. Before that the Clocktower, The Orange Tree, The Old Grey Horse and at the start of time – The Cavalcade.

This proves creationist theory that to make a decent Lamb Shank get the lamb from Axons.

It explains why, seconds after The Big Bang a charity shop opened in Wilmslow Road and means all we have left to discover is what the shop next to No 4. On Warburton Street actually sells.

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