Month: June 2016

Team in the national news

Pete, as part of his job description, that I think he made up himself, keeps a look out in the media for competitor information and general market information. I think he calls it market intelligence.

Pete, has finally come up trumps, the team has made it in to the national press for something which doesn’t involve litigation or Parliamentary select committee questioning.

Pete recons the team could even get some sort of CEO recognition for generating media coverage (AVE) – quite exciting.

Even though it is not the Financial Times it is still quite an achievement, according to Pete.

And it is something that the team is good at.

Unfortunately it is the Daily Mail (online), but luckily not the side bar of shame.*

Lunch in the sun.

SIP team sunny lunch

not sure we’ll get any CEO acclaim.

 

 

* they are in the photo. Honest.

Brexit – migration

There has been a fair bit of talk in the house about the implications of Brexit. The kids have also been discussing it at school and are probably better informed than most adults.

No 1 is very worried that we will have to move.

“I dont want to go to another country to study”

“It will be so hard, I’ll be bottom of the class”

I was trying to give reassurance.

“i dont think we’ll have to move, and you can stay in your school”

No 1 is not that convinced.

“I’ll struggle at school. it will be so hard”

“I don’t mind going on holiday, but it would be a nightmare to live there”

“It’s just that I can’t understand anything they say”

“I don’t want to go up North”

 

 

 

continental breakfast – the morning after the night before Brexit

We woke up on the morning after the big Brexit vote to the news that the nation had decided we should be out. A fair degree of shock and nervousness as to what would happen next.

No 2 was extremely worried about the implications for trade with the rest of Europe.

“Will we still be able to get Nutella?”

No. 2 is quite a fan and gets through industrial amounts of the stuff.

Any way, in fear of not being able to have continental food in the future we decided to have crêpes for breakfast, with Nutella, just in case.

crepes

4 poster bed

On our recent “mini break”, which is a bit of a misnomer as any trip with the kids doesn’t give us a break from anything. The only thing that changes is the scenery.

But fair play the wife did find a good deal on Groupon for a farm B and B with loads of animals for the kids.

Well, it was a farm except you had to drive through an industrial estate to get to it. And the animals had appeared to have gone on holiday. But at least the rooms were lovely. We booked two rooms, an adult room and one for the kids.

The adult room was great. Huge, massive en-suite with one of those trendy baths on legs in the middle of the room.

As we entered the room The Wife gave an excited yelp

“a four poster bed!”

Obviously I was getting a little ahead of myself thinking that the kids would be in another room, trendy bath, four poster bed…

No 1 being ever inquisitive wondered, “Why do we care if there are pictures?”

As it transpired, the kids loved splashing in the trendy bath, and No 2 got scared being down the corridor from the parents room. So I spent the duration of the “mini break” dreaming what it would have been like in the four poster.

visits to the hospital

During a recent visit to my brother’s family, his No 2 is a little energetic and tends to end up with plenty of bumps and bruises. Which is fairly normal for kids.

We were just commenting on his latest death defying feat and the probability of having to visit the local hospital emergency department, when my No 2 piped up

“we’re used to that”

“I have my favourite seat”

my brother looks quizzically at me

“seven times so far” No 2 states almost proudly.

“it’s the most comfortable”

It’s quite lucky we moved to a house that is closer to the hospital. It turned out to be quite practical.

 

breakfast cereal wars – revenge

No 1 didn’t realise that there were actually some chocolate cereals left. But she obviously realised that she went quite a few days without her choco fix.

No 2 even managed not to tell No 1 about her cunning plan.

Sitting with No 2 again at the breakfast table. No idea where No 1 is at breakfasts.

“Oh my goodness!”

The soap worked.

“Look what she’s done!”

The packet was in the normal place in the cupboard and everything looked OK to me.

“She glued the top of the cereal packet to make it look like it’s not opened!”

There’s hope for No 1 after all.

 

Dad’s funny?

When kids arrive you try to bring your best dad game to each match. One of the best things most parents will tell you is to see the kids laugh. It nearly makes it all worth while. And the more they laugh the less time they have to cause trouble or cry. The only issue is having a constant supply of material to divert them from thinking about having a tantrum.

I, unselfishly, took the role of chief good humour supplier after the arrival of No 1. I was also pretty good at making organic vegetable purre – we wouldnt want to harm the kid’s future prospects or have them turn out to be axe murderers.

After putting in hours of hard graft over many months with keeping No1 topped up with giggles and constant reminders that I was funny, I got the reward for my efforts, No1 proclaimed that “daddy is funny”.

I took that accolade in my stride. But pretty chuffed inside.

Surprisingly this did not seem to please The Wife. On reflection not really that surprising as the in-law side of the family is not renowned for its wit and repartee. I can’t ever remember the mother in law ever smiling in my presence.

No 1 was getting fairly good at telling everyone that “daddy’s funny”, which I counted as a substantial parenting achievement.

We were just pottering along one morning when No 1 asks The Wife

“What is funny?”

At least The Wife thought that was funny. Which it wasn’t.

History home work

Obviously kids don’t want parents to help them with school work. As we just annoy them and don’t understand. Something of a two way street.

So my Brother helpfully suggested he could help No 1 with some holiday home work. Lovely uncle bonding time.

He’s actually doing very well. Got No 1 to write something and even murmur a correct answer. Without any threats or extreme psychology used. Apart from the bit where he had to drag No 1 by the feet across the floor to the table. But that was before any books came out so that doesn’t strictly count as during the study session.

I think the topic moved on to the Battle of Hastings.

Brother asks,  “how did King Harold die?”

No 1 dithers for a bit,  “err, dun know”

Brother takes another tack,  “what evidence might we look for to help?”

Brother’s No 2 helpfully chips in

“we could check the CCTV”

off ground tig

This time it was my turn to take the kids away for half term. A short trip back up North to visit my brother’s young family. Keep the connection with the roots. And leave The Wife behind.

Usual thing, we turn up to a neat and tidy house and within 10 seconds the place is turned upside down in a whirlwind of hyper excited kids. But it’s all about keeping the cousins connected so it’s alright. And it’s not our place.

We ventured to the Moors, plenty of fresh air and the kids could burn off some of that energy. A bit of good old fashioned cheap entertainment. With no electronic devices in sight.

After a while it actually starts to be a bit difficult to keep a hoard of wild kids occupied on a flat featureless expanse of moorland.

We milked hide-and-seek as much as we could. Which is not bad considering there is not a bush or tree for miles.

After several games of “tig” we started to go through all the variations. Had to explain to our Southern kids that up North “it” is called “tig”.

We ran through; standard tig, team tig, off-ground tig, tig with bases, frozen tig…

Each time a new version was suggested everyone had to shout at each other their suggestions for the rules. Without any regard for what anyone else was shouting. This was obviously the best way to come to a consensus over rules. Complete bedlam.

After each game rule selection shouting match the combination of rules was becoming more and more complex, with the name of the game becoming longer and longer.

The final session was getting quite heated and intense, with the suggested game being; off ground-team-fox-with bases-frozen-box guard-tig.

When the brother’s No2 says

“you mean banana”

Of course we did.