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 “Zantac”

The Twelve Days of Didsbury Dad Christmas

On the 12th day of Christmas my true love gave to me 12 hours sleep,
11. Peppa Pig toys
10. Zantac calming
9. Mince Pies mincing
8. Pets a puking
7. Sky Sports Channels
6. Hours driving in a car with screaming toddlers and bored teen
5 nappies honking
4. French patisseries
3. Minutes’ peace and quiet
2. Twins a bouncing
And a life based in Didsbury…..

Your Didsbury Top 12 (almost) free to do tips:
1. Walk along the side of the metro line boring your children senseless with “all this used to be fields.” Chat.

2. Bring a picnic and take the Metro tour of Manchester to Bury Market where you remember you’ve left your wallet at home and have to come back.

3. Talk about the true meaning of Christmas/Chanucah/Solstice/(insert own) and take them to one of our great churches, synagogues, mosques, cult bases. There is usually singing, getting up and down and catering afterwards.

4. Fletcher Moss – brilliant. (Especially with an Alpine Cafe stop)

5. The little park next to Fletcher Moss, great for the under 5’s and handy for The Didsbury, Ye Olde Cocke and Dimitri’s.

6. Play hide and seek on the old Manchester Poly site – hours of endless fun.

7. Take the Saturday morning samples trail from The Cheese Hamlet down to West Didsbury and back up to Parrs Wood.

8. Didsbury Library has a fantastic children’s section, a toilet AND you aren’t meant to eat in there; genius.

9. Gym offers. Lavid Ddoyd are currently offering 12 days for 12 pounds so long as you understand it’s also £12 for a coffee and £12 for a kid’s snack as well.

10. Visit friends and relatives. It is important to rotate.

11. Didsbury, Cavendish, Fog Lane – play, remember which one has swings, which one has a BMX track and ducks and which one has a bespoke Chocolatier next door.

12. Play the old Didsbury Gsme. “Uh Oh, Where’s Nido? What was Cibo?”

The Snowman, slowly replacing Frozen as the thrice a day treat.

Mighty head, busy hands

Dear Didsbury Dad

As an amalgamation of dads across the world (mainly those in Didsbury with a non specific past, a mistrust of strong opinions outside of sport and a love of coffee), I get a lot of post from other mums and dads asking advice. Here are a few which I felt represent the majority of issues raised by parents from, not just Didsbury, but across the world.

Dear Didsbury Dad.
My teenage child is keen to ditch school sports. I am concerned that this may lead to isolation, over-eating and lack of self-esteem. Can you advise me?

Dear J:
don’t be harsh on your child, if they can’t stand school showers let them go. Your self-esteem does not rest on the indifferent loping around of chapped-legged year 9 and 10s as they get hammered by other schools. Your exit from touchline conversation needn’t leave you stranded. My top tip is to embrace this hormone-induced lack of drive in your child. Enjoy the reduction in washing and the lie-in. Join a gym, say hello to people in the sauna and only have a flapjack every other visit. If this doesn’t work stay in bed.

Dear Didsbury Dad
I am coming to Didsbury next week for Small Business Saturday on 6 December. My non-Didsbury wife likes Starbucks and is worried that non-mass produced food and drink won’t taste right and may not contain enough salt. Can you recommend a top ten for coffee, snacks and lunches? I hear Didsbury has a KFC.

Mr X. Wow, what a question. Top 10 independent outlets in Didsbury without mentioning Nando’s in Parrs Wood or the ever-consistent and bizarrely male customer follicly challenges Costa Tesco Burnage. Hmmm….
In no order.
1 Wine & Wallop on Lapwing Lane with a Fusion Coffee and Panini to sober up on the way to
2. Burton Road – Pinchjo’s for tapas, Folk for experience, Mary and Archie’s for booze.
3. Nip around to the Thyme Out deli opposite the hospital or stop for cake at And The Dish Ran Away With The Spoon.
After you’ve togged up at the Independent Steranko and notched a handmade chocolate by the metro, waddle towards Barlow Moor Road for…
4. The glitz, the people watching but not the service at Albert’s Shed.
5. Cleanse at Healthy Spirit opposite the church. Go upstairs for meditation and downstairs for meditation and Ancoats roasted coffee, delicious.
6. Indulge whilst strolling at Bisou Bisou and walk to the pop up art and gorgeous, free Wi-Fi and wall paintings at Central Perk on School Lane.
7. Back via a baking class or two and an AiryFairy CupCake Boutique special to the village where…
8. You must try the bar at Bourbon & Black, a cocktail at Solita and a shimmy with the staff at Chalk Bar & Grill.
9. Via Zantac at Boots don’t miss a Fosters chip barm (gluten free available). You must visit Giddy Goat Toys. I had a toddler incident there last week when he mistook the Olaf in the window for the one he has at home and went ballistic. This just leaves a trip back West for
10. Dinner at Piccolino’s ( in my view still independent), Greens or The Lime Tree – all superb.
You can always take a box of our very own Kansas Fried Chixken home if she’s not happy.

Dear Didsbury Dad
I am the parent of a child at one of Didsbury’s lovely primary schools and live within the catchment area. However, most mornings I drive my 4 x 4 badly through the village reacting aggressively to pedestrians and feel that as I have children I have the right to block driveways, park on double yellows, nick residents parking places and be rude to these residents as my over-pampered, soon-to-be obese offspring trail behind me, heads in screens. Am I bad person? Will karma get me?

3. Yes and yes.

More next time.

Parenthood – The Joy and Pain

This much I have learned as I sail past 39 and a couple of years. Parenthood is about joy and pain. Having new twins is a joy, an unblemished joy. From the gurgles and snuggles that greet a cuddle at 3am, to the  smile that at eight weeks is still wind,  to the redecoration of every piece of clothing with semi-digested milk.
To know that  I have sailed past 39 and its neighbours and knowing I hopefully have  another near two decades of this is a genuine joy. That said, it makes me glad I wasted my 20s and most of my 30s on a hedonistic epicurean career that means I can enjoy sharing my next two decades with the Didsbury Son and the dynamic duo. Their first signs of personality look interesting – it’s going to be noisy.
That’s the joy, what of the pain? The pain of parenthood is not about the worry the day the roundest head in babydom went yellow and spent 24 hours in a blindfold under a lamp. It is not about the moment Didsbury Son gave me instructions that if I saw him at the bus stop I was in no way to kiss, hug, hair ruffle or call him pet names; from now on its dad not daddy. Its not even the nights spent agonising over minutiae.  Tough, but not the pain of parenthood.
Didsbury Son looks to the future - expect to see this picture used for Christmas blogs

Didsbury Son looks to the future – expect to see this picture used for Christmas blogs

At over 40 the joy of being a new parent is magnified and the pain is all physical. Everything hurts. My shoulders are locked from carrying both twins together, my elbows feel as though they’ve been kicked repeatedly, my ears are ringing, the bags under my eyes have compartments and my stomach is shot from 8 weeks of cold tea, congealed food and no gym visits. Childbirth, it’s just the start. The pain of parenthood needs Ranitidine, Ibuprofen, a decent masseur and has to solve the riddle of the sphinx.
Why – when winding a baby do you always burp first?

Accidental Inheritance

We sat back after a special Didsbury Dad tea; all colours and flavours with no central theme. There was some male bonding, shared through a sigh, the odd grunt and a glassy-eyed happiness usually only seen in post-feed babies.

Didsbury Son looked at me and said the line that makes all dads swell with pride, rather than gas. “Dad, when I grow up I want to be just like you.”

Even as the words fell like the sweetest confetti on the happiest groom I could picture the majority of my poor decisions and wish Didsbury Son an adulthood with many differences and less crises.

I surreptitiously loosened my belt, squinted over my glasses at him and, reaching for an antacid replied,
“One day son, this will all be yours” pointing at a pile of papers that contained a credit card bill, a letter from school, two takeaway menus and a conference programme from March.

He smiled, scratched his nose and we both wondered what to do next.

Both of us savoured and inhaled the thought of success. Him considering the easy acquisition of My Wonderful Life, me deciding to crank up the homework and make sure his first significant A is not AA Roadside Assistance.

We returned to happy silence as I fought the urge to pontificate; failed, gave in to the urge and gave him a selectively edited version of my rise to being Didsbury Dad.

By the time I had finished I expected applause, tears, flowers at least.

I got a smile and a pat before he sloped off to watch TV with an encounter he may one day be able to pinpoint as the day he first began to see the gap between intent and actuality.


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