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 “Homeland”

Iggle Piggle Saves A Big Night Out

At a sophisticated soirĂ©e we went to last week we covered all the current serious topics. Mandela’s legacy, Syria and Breaking Bad.

As the Co -Op Prosecco flowed, we nodded sagely and spouted Guardian editorials. It could only have been duller had I been forced to feign interest in The Ashes or we had got onto smacking, acceptable or not.

The first time I was dragged into this room splitter I misheard the start and thought we were discussing snacking. It made for an awkward evening.

As Didsbury Wife and I counted the minutes until we could go home, this promised to be more disappointing than the first half of Homeland series 3 until…

Conversation turned towards the power of In the Night Garden. I have long admired Derek Jacobi’s work – apart from the thing with Gandalf but ITNG is sublime. The drama of the reveal, Ninky or Pinky? The utter joy of the Tombliboos, the slight unease about Macca Pacca. Why the trike and is that thing on his back a Haemorrhoid?

This discussion led to a sing song and joy all around. Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder but one day those Pontipine kids may suffer for sharing a room with their seven siblings and their parents.

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Princess Zelda or a crate of Prosecco? The ultimate parental dilemma. Empty seats, always visually interesting

Iggle Piggle v Homeland and Utopia

This much I know. In The Night Garden is possibly the finest television I have seen this year; edging out Homeland’s multi-story pile up and the beautiful crafting and colouring of Utopia by a short Nonk.
Derek Jacobi’s VoiceOver is worthy of forgiveness for that thing he shares with Gandalf on ITV, where Frances de la Tour plays a female, middle-class Keith Lemon.
ITNG, a flagship show on the mighty CBeebies could go prime time. If the unfathomable Deal or No Deal ( the whole open a box is Key Stage 1 motor control) is an 8pm show then why not “At Home with the Pontypines”. 8 kids, living next door to their twins who also have 8 kids – more enticing than Celebrity Big Brother and genuinely mind-bending.
How about a Top Gear Special on Ninky Nonk v Pinky Ponk? We are a Ninky family but there is something about the Pinky Ponk’s wheezing beauty that draws you in. I was granted access to the cast to find out their take on being part of this QI for the pre-lingual.

Part. 1:
Iggle Piggle in his own words. Iggle rarely gives interviews and is known offscreen for his thoughtful poetry and landscape watercolours.

“Once the blankey comes down, the light goes on and the music starts you have a lot of time on your own to think. It’s just you and a rolling sea. There’s no one running circles around my palms and until I get through the hedge it’s a lonely journey. The guys are great and I think I could sail there in my sleep, but… Sometimes not even a smile and a kiss from Upsy Daisy can make up for that commute. Me? I know one day it will end. Only Postman Pat and Bob the Builder seem to go on forever and they have a trade. Glee are interested in a spin-off of the Blankey dance but they think Sky Blue’s a weak colour so we are in discussion. I’m not bleaching for anyone.

The best thing? Good question. I don’t think you ever get over being a role model for the Holophrastic Babblers. It’s a gift.

Apologies and Cortisone

Apologies for the lack of posts recently. Give me another week and I will be back with more nappy nights, pre- teen blights, all-new Co/op ( correctly renamed Copo by @ Craftwords) bites, cortisone in the elbow plights and trying to book before they are two free flights.

I’ve been to Japanese Festivals and 80s nights. I’ve been to two capital cities and failed to find a coffee better than Fusion Deli and a brownie to match And the Dish Ran Away with the Spoon.

I have fallen asleep standing up dreamed of being Bill Murray’s pal in Lost In Translation Tokyo and discussed Hipp Organic v Home Cooked with a master chef.

Tonight proved a microcosm of my thwarted attempts to blog. As Carrie Matheson and Saul Berenson said goodnight I planned a couple of hours writing Homeland quality masterpieces in between work proposals.

First the mighty headed boy ( now a spit of 70s football icon Francis Lee) coughed himself awake. Armed with Benilyn and love I cooed him to sleep but the creaking of my knees awoke Princess Pearlyhead whose lungs are developing nicely. I eventually made it downstairs where I could swear I heard music. Didsbury Son ‘s alarm had gone off at midnight. He slept through, blissfully purring as some aimless quiffed British Bieber warbled on. He slept, but he managed to wake everyone else. Karma. – you owe me one.

Early. Daze

All life lives here. Modern parenting for twins 2012. Didsbury Son is on the school bus, unsure whether big brother beats sole trader and slightly disappointed that at 10 days old the twins won’t yet respond to tickles, raspberries and head shakes. He had expected them to come out playing and it’s probably my fault he was unprepared. Their lolling head, fill and empty, cry and sleep lifestyle is less engaging than Minecraft, Futurama… Even homework.

Didsbury Wife is grabbing a rare hour to herself which leaves me to modern man multi-task. Twin 1 is in my left arm. This micro Mao with an aversion to being horizontal is snuffling in his sleep whilst Twin 2, my gorgeous little alien feeder is Chicco Mio bouncy chair bound and I’m rocking her with the right foot whilst switching between Homeland on the iPad and making a quiche one handed. This morning I am an advert for Unicorn Grocery brought to life (Terry nappies, mother feeding,v Alpro warming in the centrally heated kitchen). Just need an Aga and a green jumper.

I am craving a bottle of cider (it’s the pregnancy sympathy thing, I have only ever used cider for cooking before), a McDonalds (other nutrient free, high salt takeaways are available) and my arm. The Benevolent Despotism of new babies is a wonder. You do what you are told and the rewards seem incongruous with expectations from a fortnight ago. Our Didsbury world has shrunk to the texture of a nappy, the quiet of a sleep and the faint smell of sweet milk permeating the house.

But these things I have already learned:
1. People will still ask if they are identical even after they have established that the colour scheme of the clothes matches the gender stereotype.

2. Caffe Nero is very pram friendly. C’mon Croatian Deli and Art of Tea sort it out.

3. Visitors seem to imagine that Didsbury Son and I want to interrupt Futurama to hear their labour /birth/ weaning stories. We don’t.

4. We are very proud of Didsbury Wife. Her yield would have David and Ruth Archer down The Bull to celebrate.

5. There has been a glut of twins in Didsbury this year. Linen and Giddy GoatToys must be getting ready to buy yachts and DidsburyPark is considering building a special lane for buggies and…

5. I had the most wonderful dream last night. Didsbury Son and I were sitting on an old couch In a cool shed. Football droned on in the background, a pot of coffee steamed next to a pastrami on rye and Didsbury Son was lost in world of Minecraft; neither of us said a word.

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