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 “Terry Nappies”

I Cannot Grumble, but is a quick moan alright?

It had been an exceedingly long day. As I munched my Monday Focaccia and ambled through the built up roads and empty Gourmet Burger Kitchen of Didsbury I was ready for a good moan about my long day. I had a whole spiel concocted with regard to some perceived snub and a great play on words inspired by a banal piece of oneupmanship. All of it dreary and in keeping with the first burst of winter after a summer when we could finally moan about the heat (and did).

 

I admit it. I have, on occasion used the twin babies as a front for being a bit crap. “Ooh, I’m so tired, Aaaah I’ve been up all night, but can’t grumble (make yourself comfy I’m about to grumble copiously)” . Nobody else has ever had children/gone to work/made their own tea occasionally.

 

The British are famous for moaning, tea, fish and chips and punching above our weight at sport without ever being sure how we did it. I’ll address the other three later but we know you need patience to make a decent brew and trying to gain sympathy from people without appearing to is more ubiquitous (if you can be more ubiquitous) than football and Holly Willoughby on ITV.

So here is the Didsbury Dad guide to the top 3 dad moans for opportunities we should celebrate.

 

  1. Nappy changes. I am not sure everyone realised that at midnight on 31 December 1999 we rolled into the 21st Century. Changing a nappy is occasionally smelly and a bit messy. At worst it can be an entertaining tussle. It’s nothing a quick hand wash can’t sort out.

In addition to giving you the excuse to blow raspberries on your baby’s tummy it builds trust and there is no chromosomal reason not to do it. It is also quicker and easier than washing up and watching the Mighty-Headed boy wee on me randomly has provided Didsbury Son with some of his most entertaining moments his year.

 

2. Getting the baby(ies) down. This is the best for many reasons. After pretending you are the king of funny voices, funny stories and general nurturing you get to cuddle up with them on the pretext that they weren’t settling in the cot on their own. When you lie with a baby curled up into you, their arm on your chest and the scent of their heads filling your nostrils, it removes the residue of any sleepless night. It is a count your blessings experience,  even if its during a Champions League Game (pre-Christmas group games obviously, I’ve not lost it completely). This  also provides you with the chance of a quick snooze or a game of Candy Crush on the iPhone over their shoulder.

 

3. The cost. Let’s be honest. There is a little bit of Homer Simpson in most of us that involves wasting money on tat, high salt food and over-priced drinks.  That we now realise we should have opened a chemist shop and saved up instead of throwing greats parties is by the by. When I spend less on coffee than I do on Aptamil I will moan.

 

It’s been bloody cold today and I got wet. I’ll just get the phone and call someone who cares.

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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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