Your Son is Two: 4 Things you Need to Do

So cute. Maybe it's not too late to have some more...

So cute. Maybe it’s not too late to have some more…

Rachel – a virtual pal of mine – wrote a blog post last week. 10 Things being a Parent has Taught me. Respect for my mum, makes you a better person, discover patience you never knew you had… And, of course, 3am no longer means alcohol.

Nope, it means vomit trickling down your back and a knacker-whacking from your lovely wife.

“You’ve woken me up.”

“I’m frozen. I thought cuddling you would – ”

“Well it won’t. Go and freeze in the spare room.”

Rachel’s son is two. As my eldest is now 22, I thought I might offer a little advice. Just in case she thinks she’s got this parenting lark licked. Four things you need to do now your son is two… [Read more…]

My Inspiration is Leaving…

Inspiration packed and ready to go...

Inspiration packed and ready to go…

What is it with other people’s children? Why do they grow up so much faster than yours?

“What’s Maisie now?” you say to a friend you haven’t seen for a while – as you feel remarkably smug at remembering the child’s name. “She must be nearly ready to start school.”

“She’s eight.”

“Oh…”

It’s the same with pregnancies. Jane’s pregnancies lasted for about two years. Everyone else is pregnant for three months.

“How’s Claire doing? The baby must be due in a couple of months?”

“Leo’s six months. He’s just started crawling.”

“Oh…”

So I wasn’t going to make that mistake when I ‘talked’ to my pal, Frankie – talked meaning Facebook’ed, obviously. [Read more…]

Things I Learned About my Dad on the Pennine Way

"He can't read a map..."

“He can’t read a map…”

“He can’t read a map.”

My wife raised her eyebrows. “Tell me something I don’t know. The only reason we’re still married is the invention of the SatNav. Do you remember that time in France?”

“You mean when he got lost in the supermarket car park and you had that enormous argument?”

I’d rather hoped Ben had been too young to remember that little incident. Clearly not. They spent a happy couple of minutes reminiscing about my failings. “What else?” Jane asked.

“Well…” [Read more…]

Back to School No More

3 for 2? It doesn't matter any more...

3 for 2? It doesn’t matter any more…

‘Back to School.’ Three words in a shop window that used to utterly depress me.

Now, I rather like them – in the same way I’ll like it in the afterlife when Beelzebub tells me he’s going to roast someone else for the next half hour.

Sure, Ben’s going back to college on Tuesday, but so what? He goes in jeans, t-shirt and a hoodie. Uniform? You must be joking – that’s only for the girls, jeans with ripped knees clearly being mandatory.

Tom’s now a grown up and Jessica’s heading back to Sheffield – via a short detour to a music festival in the Isle of Wight. Meanwhile, the shops are ablaze with window stickers – and several social media pals are on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Not that I was always so relaxed… [Read more…]

One of my Children is a Grown Up!

Dan - Yr 4When I started writing these weekly ramblings about my children Tom was nine: in Year 4 at school. I’m not sure when the photo was taken – my wife would know – but he looked something like that.

Three years later there was a Grand Prix on TV – goodness knows why as I had no interest in the sport – and Tom wandered in. He started to watch and became fascinated: not by the race or the drivers but by the technicalities – specifically the aerodynamics.

The first time he started talking about it I scuttled off to ask Google for help. Tom was just beginning to suspect that his Dad didn’t know everything about everything. I preferred to delay the confirmation for a few more months…

Then he disappeared to his bedroom. And a few months later they called us into school. “Tom’s falling behind in Physics.” [Read more…]

Polo Shirts and Peer Pressure

 

“Why are you wandering around in your underpants, Dad?”

“I’m not.”

“Actually, Dad, you are.”

“Well, technically, yes.”

“That’s worrying, Dad. When Mum’s assessing patients ‘not knowing you’re wandering around in underpants’ will be right at the top of the list.”

I carefully explained to my youngest son that whilst at that moment I might – technically – only be wearing underpants and socks (sorry if you’re having breakfast) I was actually trying clothes on.

Lots of them… [Read more…]

Pokemon Gone

Let me introduce my two eldest children…

Tom: Master’s in Engineering. Jessica: very shortly to be awarded an honours degree in Journalism.

Both currently at home pending a) going off to design formula one cars and b) going back to uni to do a Master’s.

Both intelligent; both with a great work ethic. And both currently wandering up the road in search of Pokemon.

I vaguely remember Pokemon from when Tom was 11 or 12. Peekaboo? Pikachu? Something like that…

Anyway, they’re back. And apparently the most important thing happening in the world. Failed coup in Turkey 1.54m results on Google. Pokemon Go 33.9m results.

Clearly it wasn’t just a passing fad. And clearly – as an engaged Dad who has his finger on the pulse – I need to show some interest…  [Read more…]

The Third Child

The Third Child aged 6. Or maybe 7...

The Third Child aged 6. Or maybe 7…

“So why did you have a third child?”

As the third child was asking the question, it seemed to merit an answer.

“I’m going out for a walk,” I’d said to him an hour earlier. “Do you want to come?”

To my surprise he’d said ‘yes.’ And here we were on the cliffs – as always, straight into a serious conversation.

“How long did you and Mum live together before you got married?”

Where had that come from? Jane and I had suspicions that our youngest son’s nights out ‘just with my friends’ were no longer nights out with his friends. But he’s 17; he’s entitled to his secrets – and to ask the questions, apparently. [Read more…]

Motes, Beams and Top Trumps

The view from Denis Malcolm Kendall...

The view from Denis Malcolm Kendall…

Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.

Or in this case, thy son’s…

You may have noticed there’s been a little political excitement of late. Tom and I were discussing it over the dinner table last week. I use the word ‘discussing’ in its loosest possible sense.

“Did you really vote Leave?” [Read more…]

A Perfect Father’s Day

Father's DayFather’s Day. 8:30 in the morning. I was back from walking the dog. Six weeks to go until the Pennine Way and the wretched training schedule had demanded ten miles. Ten foggy miles…

Never mind. My loving family would be in the hall to meet me. Jane with a cup of tea and a slice of toast, two of my three lovely children with beaming smiles and ‘Best-Dad-Ever presents.’ And somehow Tom would have arranged a special delivery from Cambridge, cajoling Yodel to deliver a case of amusing Shiraz on a Sunday morning.

No.

They were all still asleep.

I scanned the hall.

And nothing from Tom.

Ah well. I hadn’t been expecting much… [Read more…]