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 “iphone”

Sleep Depravation and the IPhone battery

Sleep Depravation shows the extent of the convergence between humanity and technology. I have developed battery life akin to my iPhone. When I first brought the Sleep Depravation 4 just under 3 years ago I just needed a quick sync and full charge every week to ten days and worked in full power.After 3 winters and several depravation upgrades (they’ve got heavier, louder and harder to shush down), this third summer has seen my joints stiffen and my energy plunge as short trips (what in the name of Waitrose was I thinking) to opposite ends of the UK have left the toddlers with on tour timings and tantrums and Didsbury Wife and I so low on juice that even an altruistic induced lie-in only gets us out of the red for a couple of hours. Just like your iPhone. By month 24 a quick trawl through Sky Sports News and its wheezing and out of life. 

I fell asleep in a lift today – it would not have been so bad were I not a) claustrophobic b) in a conversation at the time regarding a creative project. 

I have brought a mobile charger (Berocca), a car charger (Coffee) and plugged into the computer (Sugar). But all I know is that I’m only a 5am Peppa Pig Party away from crashing and was so disoriented yesterday I used an emoticon 😭.

  One pig, 15 apps, 12 ribs in sauce

I’m positively looking forward to my next withering put down by teen boy Didsbury Son; at least he doesn’t need milk or picking up.   

 I was so tired yesterday I tried moving his helmet so I could tell them he’d gone to Doggy Heaven. 

Top 10 Tips for Travelling with Toddlers

Travelling with twin toddlers. A simple A to Z.
A. – it’s ace
2 – two soothers, two snacks, two beakers or too late, you are done for.
Z. – toddling boddlers x 2. No chance of Zzzzzs.

Now that’s out of the way sit back, chew on a week-old rice cake and turn off every bass-less plastic teapot, frog, picnic basket and lion; here’s the skinny. I’ll just remove Iggle Piggle from the small of my back.
To paraphrase Shakespeare’s Othello “Rude am I in speech and little blessed with the soft phrase of peace but I can adapt a range of football chants to soothe babies and amuse Didsbury Son”.

In their short lives so far the twins have been on a range of flights, starting at 10 weeks with a trip to Spain. My real secret is to let Didsbury Wife plan and strategise, then do as I’m told. It works. But for those occasions I am in charge I have top tips for travel. (Although many originally began… Tell Didsbury Son to run after them, blame Didsbury Son, feign sleep or cry)

1. Ignore the naysayers. The reaction to taking the twins on a transatlantic flight varied from hushed shock to claims of madness. Flights are free (except for the ubiquitous and unfathomable airport taxes, £28 landing, £11 per crack in the pavement walked upon and £3 for each bottle of water you can’t take through customs otherwise WHSmith would be the new Woolworths. The price of the items too dangerous to take through customs is the first mugging of your holiday.) for the under twos so we worked out we were in the last few months of being able to afford a transatlantic trip unless the government re-direct all taxes to free child care. Did I digress?
Calpol, low expectations, a fixed smile and an apology on the tip of your tongue and bingo, travelling with toddlers is easy AND more easily navigatable than Jazz.

2. Forget your last pre-children visit anywhere. Then, you stayed in a boutique hotel at the heart of the party. You need accessible lifts, storage room, air conditioning, carpets that cushion a falling boddler and dark wallpaper that does not show crayon marks. As we lay in our trendy hotel a block from Miami’s biggest party listening to drum, bass and next door ‘s argument and inevitable, excruciating and thankfully brief reconciliation, I craved the bland open spaces and Multi-channelled impersonality of our Homewood Suites off the I-95.

3. If you drive, they will sleep. When you stop, they will wake. Plan your stops. You cannot pull in for a quick wee/coffee/snooze – it will rouse the team from the depths of sleep to the clingiest screech in seconds. A minor note in the States. I asked where the bed was in the restroom, bad move.

4. Occasionally, the crap snacks we all enjoy are okay to pass downwards. My two have X-Ray vision and bloodhound noses for crisps. Their joy at a bag opened in their direction offsets the middle-class shame at sharing salty treats.

5. Make sure there is a child-friendly pool

6. Make sure there is a child-friendly pool

7. Make sure there is a child-friendly pool. This is the only hope you have of staying on budget, getting a tan and having a permanent excuse to get away from strangers mistaking you laughing with your family, with having the slightest interest in talking to them and hearing about Indiana. I genuinely had someone ask if we knew Jane Platt.., from London. Of course we said yes before feigning the need for nappy changes all around.

8. Do not be lured in by American waiters feigning friendliness with your brood, it makes not leaving a tip afterwards more embarrassing.

9. Sing. Most people think the English are eccentric (and love Royalty – the planned wedding between Prince George and my Pearly-topped princess was well-received) and being able to change a nappy whilst singing and ordering drinks is the way to happy kids and personal space.

10. Plan ahead. It’s a holiday and the chances are high that you don’t have childcare. The lure of a late night Mojito, ice-cold beer or Hemlock can be strong and you may wake up feeling more woozy than usual. The heirs to your eczema lying next to you neither understand nor care and to avoid feeling seasick have the tools ready to buy you a little extra sleep.
IPad loaded with known games -14 minutes
YouTube nursery rhymes or CBeeBies programme – 19 minutes.
IPhone loaded -8 minutes
Dragon breath slur “sleepy time” – 36 seconds and a potential headbutt.
Bag of crisps and iPad 24 minutes* – the call is yours.

* times may vary dependent on nappy weight and contents

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Sago Mini – I love this more than I should, 15 minutes of relative peace

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Things I have learned – small children like aimlessly walking around paths – you can virtually sleepwalk

Backless Gowns and Barbiturates

June 1st: I am in hospital. Drugs, backless gowns, attention, no phone calls about work, lovely nurses and room service, I finally see the attraction. I am in for the noblest operation a man of my experience can have. It’s called the triple F solution, forty, fat and football fan – an arthroscopy.

I sit in my gown, feet on bed trying to think up a bold and dangerous sounding reason for being here to tell the nurses. My pre-med addled brain thinks that these 20 something nurses see before them a distinguished yet strong, nurturing and irresistible man of experience. I realise it is a combination of the medication, the surroundings and the slight dread of being knocked out and my secrets laid bare.

The morphine kicks in

It’s a doddle. If Arthroscopies had a fan page on Facebook I would Like it and invite friends. I am like a grandfather looking at an iPhone for the 1st time. 3pm Op. 5pm Morphine. 9pm Home. This is better than an iPhone, better than ESPN Goals being free to download and better than last week’s pain.

I make all sorts of bargains before I go to sleep. I will do my exercises religiously (more spiritual than religious), I will be climbing mountains with Didsbury son and the cubs by September (well, does driving count), I will save the sample of the knees creaking to remind me each time I fancy a trip in a lift and a Snickers. I will campaign for better knee health for all. I am gone, in a haze of morphine and relief.

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