Table manners

It is difficult getting any information out of the kids, whether useful or not. The Q & A session usually follows a similar pattern

Interested parent “How was school today?”

No 1 or No 2 “ok”

Exasperated parent “What did you do?”

No 1 or No 2 “Nothing special”

We generally have no idea what they have done during the day except for school lunches. It is really easy to tell what was on the menu. An inspection of the hair will give a full breakdown of the daily dishes.

We have been trying most forms of coercion to get the cutlery used. Nothing seems to succeed. Usually meal time comments are generally based along the lines of:

“why are you holding the fork in one hand but picking your food up with the other”

“Use the napkin not your trousers/shirt/chair/hair/nose to wipe your fingers now they are messy”

“If you cut the food it will fit more easily into your mouth”

“use the knife to cut the food. It usually works better than a spoon.”

“Why have you got a spoon? We are not having soup.”

How could we get the kids to hold their cutlery in their hands and use it to move food from their plate to their mouths?

Obviously the challenge was to keep the cutlery in the hands.

I was quite surprised that there was not more resistance to sticky taping their hands to the cutlery.

it looks a bit wierd, at first, but at least they can’t pick food up with their fingers.

Guests often find it odd that at the dinner table there is a roll of sticky tape next to the salt and pepper.

The down side is that we now don’t know anything that goes on at school.

helpful to do list from sucessful people

Pete, a long serving member of the team always seems to find these really useful self help lists on the internet. And share them with us. I do wonder that if he actually put some of it into practice he might not be in our team. Unless this is his perverse idea of success. link to article

Email chain below.

________________________________

From: Pete
Sent: xx xx xxxx 10:48
To: SIP Team
Subject: 14 Things successful people do before breakfast….

I knew I must be going wrong somewhere…. 🙂

Paint-by-numbers success

Don’t rich people just give the best advice? The wealthy & powerful folks at Davos provided a handy list of 14 things successful people do before breakfast.

And they’ll only take 3.5+ hours every AM.
14 things that successful people do before breakfast

 

______________________________

From: Axel
Sent: xx xx xxxx 11:55
To: Pete, SIP Team
Subject: RE: 14 Things successful people do before breakfast….

Well. I think I do most of this…

 

Wake up early – often by child who had a nightmare/urgent Christmas list thoughts/lost teddy bear/erroneously thought it was school time 3 hours early

Drink water – can’t afford orange juice so water only option

Exercise – cycle to station

Business project – proof read the current report from the team for the millionth time in train

Personal project – work out how to keep wife off Groupon

Quality time with family – try to tell child to go to her own bed, nicely

Connect with Spouse – forlornly attempt “connecting manoeuvres” in the morning but doomed to failure as The Wife is “not a morning person”

Make bed – reclaim my pillow that was stolen during the night by The Wife

Network over coffee – talk to AMT staff while buying coffee at station

Meditate – try to relax as station announcement that train is delayed/cancelled

Grateful list – ?

Plan and strategise – given up trying to do this as everything turns to sh!te anyway

Email – in train. But depends if train wifi is working. Usually not.

Read news – read gossip pages in Metro if I can get a seat on Tube.

 

Axel

______________________________

From: Mike
Sent: xx xx xxxx 11:55
To: Pete, Axel, SIP Team
Subject: RE: RE: 14 Things successful people do before breakfast….

 

I am reliably informed that this is a very similar routine to prison…

 

 

 

 

breakfast cereal wars

We can’t get the kids to stop eating Chocolatey breakfast cereals and eat something healthier. This might not be the biggest issue but it causes a bit of myther when it runs out and one of them can’t get their fix in the morning. And the only other option is some of The Wife’s organic muesli (without chocolate but usually has some sort of life enhancing berry). Which isn’t really an option.

I’m sitting at the breakfast table with No2 one morning. She’s pretty narked.

“do you know what she did!”

“but I know how she thinks”

That is actually quite worrying. There are two of them like that.

“she can’t trick me”

No2 is now looking a bit smug.

“She thinks that by hiding the cereals behind the pasta I won’t find it”

True, Baldrick could have done better.

cereal hidden

“Well, I’ll hide it under the potatoes. She’ll never look there”

The only issue is that now The Wife is complaining that her Goji berry muesli is running out.

family bonding – what a load of CoC

The Wife went to visit some friends with the kids for half term. Sans moi. Great time had by all.

The Wife came back very excited with a new big idea for a family bonding activity – CoC (Clash of Clans to the uninitiated). As I’m not the most digitally adventurous these computer games have largely passed me by. As a kid I tended to have real friends with whom we were usually out doing real things, like knock-down-ginger or playing wallie-ball.  At least we were on the same continent. But apparently things are different nowadays.

Anyway, the grand idea was to start playing CoC with the kids, as a way to share a common interest and bond as a family. All our trendy friends were doing it so it must be a good idea.

We finally all got our apps sorted out and when it came time to join a clan, I found myself last in the queue for barbarian buddies.

Luckily The Wife had a great idea, why don’t I join a clan with her brother, he likes computer games. A couple of issues came to mind here. Me leading a digital band of marauding bandits plundering the wastes of the internet – it doesn’t quite work. Plus there is the matter of the brother in law. There’s a reason he likes computer games.

Andy drives a van like the A-Team had. Dark windows, big wheels and when you open the doors blue lights turn on. Yep.

I loved the A-Team. I just don’t want the van parked in front of the house so the neighbours can see it. I often lament my failure to do adequate due dil on the prospective family, but I was less experienced and distracted by the exotic accent and lacy undies. My bad.

Before I could say “barch attack with goblins” I was dragged into a clan naming session with The Wife and Mr T.

Ideas were slow in coming: papas gang, various combinations of the family names, stuff that would really strike fear in to the hearts of the enemy.

We dialled up the fear factor and searched for something a bit more gore-y: pirates of death, pirates of doom, warriors of doom, deadly warrior pirates of doom… As the night dragged on and with hope fading of finding a way out with any dignity, we settled for the catchy “nites de la muerte”*. At least I could go to bed.

Bizarrely we have been stuck in a clan of 2 for weeks. The kids have joined other clans with dragons and wizards a-go-go. And cooler names.  Apparently they communicate by messenger and don’t need to use a phone.

The kids are bonding in their corrner, and I’m bonding with the brother in law. Another great plan from The Wife that I got talked into.

And all this has left The Wife free to plunder Groupon.

But watch this space – the “nites de la muerte”* are on the war path.

 

 

 

*Name definitely changed for anonymity.

i’ll Wash your mouth out with soap

Modern discipline is a bit different than in the good old days. The kids come back from school with a fridge magnet with the Childline phone number.  A constant reminder for beleaguered parents to stay on the straight and narrow – or else.

And the language of the kids is appalling. All this modern hip hoppy music. ABBA would never have dared.

After a recent lapse from No1, it was time to take action. Warnings had been given. She was testing me. Curious to see if dad would follow through.

The trouble with kids now is they try to take things to the edge and don’t understand that a threat has to be carried out. Otherwise it’s meaningless. They’ll cotton on pretty quickly. And then you’re really in trouble.

Boom. Pushed me over the edge. Enough is enough. Better to nip things in the bud nice and early.

The Wife was curious, probably puzzled. Did this happen north of the Watford Gap. I don’t think they did proper disciple in her family. New age liberals.

Got hold of No1. A bit of nervous laughter, probably thought dad won’t actually do it. He knows about Childline. Under estimated dad. Big time.

At the sink there’s a fair bit of wriggling. Actually quite difficult to keep a grip and get a lather up at the same time.

Unfortunately, posh soap doesn’t taste as bad as the soap in the olden days. When they made it natural and ethical they may have had potty mouthed children in mind.

But ever since the language has been perfect. Even with posh soap.

Anyone fancy a cuppa

Gran is great. Except she spoils the kids rotten. Lets them eat in front of the telly. They stay up later than they should. Pretty much any whim the kids have Gran will obey. And Grandad just stands by and lets it happen. All our hard fought discipline goes out the window. Plus, it wasn’t like that for me.

Anyway, Gran was at ours visiting. We had just got a new kettle. A little bit of a designy one, nothing too flash but a bit retro. It matched the toaster. A sort of light olive green. The Wife likes it. The lid is a bit finicky to get on and off to fill with water. But a small price to pay to have a bit of peace.

Suddenly hear a bit of a commotion from the kitchen.

Gran is looking a bit sheepish.

“I’m not sure what I was thinking about. I was concentrating on the kids.”

Can’t actually see the kids, but they’re probably OK. We would have heard them if they weren’t.

“It’s a confusing design”

“I knew it doesn’t go on the gas. I even pressed the on button”.

“I’m surprised the fire alarm didn’t go off”. Me too.

kettle 2

 

 

 

 

Homework – 4 wheels 2 axles challenge

No1 came back from school with some homework. They had to make a car with 4 wooden wheels and 2 axles that were provided. The car is then rolled down a ramp and the one that goes the furthest wins. Obviously it is a task for the kids and the parents were only to help with the tricky bits and maybe the use of power tools. They’ll learn lots about Newton’s laws, planning, designing, putting things together, and loads of other stuff that must be in the National Curriculum. Better than thinking creatively about how they might colour a poster for a “sharing” assembly.

But in the class there is some stiff competition. One dad works in F1, in the aerodynamics department, another builds laser machines, another is helping design a fusion reactor, plus lots of other clever technical type people. I make powerpoint slides. Things are looking bleak for a win.

Plus there will be an event where students and parents all get together to watch the competition. Public glory/humiliation is at stake.

The initial design is looking like it will have trouble moving with the wheels glued to the chassis. Which is an egg box. Competitor intelligence is indicating that the wind tunnel results are promising and Team Laser’s initial mass/wheel base calculations just need fine tuning. At least ours will have a tastefully coordinated colour scheme with actual drivers in the car.

I even found a few bits of wood from the shed to make a test ramp. Proof to The Wife that all those random bits of wood do actually come in handy at some point.

Trial and error (thanks to my ramp) actually helped improve the design. Now the wheels turn and we get to the bottom of the ramp. The house brick on top of the egg box was also ditched.

It’s amazing how long the aesthetics take on these technical projects. As we changed our focus to winning the “best colour scheme” award. Good to know one’s strengths.

Big event. Ramp somewhat bigger than mine, course is roped off, winners podium, BBQ is cranked up, and megaphone that works. Fair dues to the staff as it all looks quite professional. Some playful banter between the dads, but you can tell everyone is a bit nervous. Discrete peeks at the competition. Ours looked like it is in with a chance in the “best colour scheme”. It even looked like a few of the kids made their cars on their own.

F1 appears to be made of carbon fiber. Looks suspiciously like it could hold its own at Silverstone. Team Fusion Reactor appears to have a paella on top. Someone copied an early version of our house brick design. No1 obviously succeeded in implementing our false information deception strategy.

We didn’t win the “best colour scheme” award. Didn’t even get on the podium.

But we came second in the main event. Only lost by 4cms to Team Laser. Gutted.

wheels challenge barbie car

Nemo is on holiday

I don’t really like pets. Too much faffing about. Had a couple when I was a kid. The cat got run over. The rabbit was devoured by a fox. Not really had much luck with pets. Plus we already had kids to look after. Surely that’s more than enough.

The wife would love a dog. And then the kids want one as well. But I’m not budging. My initial story that I am allergic to animals worked for a while. And coupled with us living in a flat, it’s not fair on the pets to be constantly in doors.

What about a fish. bügger.

So we got a gold fish. Kids being kids, and Disney being good at marketing, it was named Nemo.

Egold fish bowlvery thing went quite well for ages. Every week we would change the water, clean the bowl, drop Nemo on the floor. He kept going for over a year. Surprisingly sturdy things.

 

You can just make out the fish bowl sitting on the cupboard.

But then one morning he wasn’t swimming anymore. The Wife, being good at thinking on her feet,  before the kids could see it, quickly removed the evidence. And told the kids Nemo had gone on holiday. Everyone needs a break. It actually worked. Not a murmur of doubt.

Obviously after a few days the kids started to ask when Nemo was coming back. Soon. At the weekend. They didn’t forget. But managed to stall for a couple of weeks.

Finally the big day.  Return to the pet shop to “collect” Nemo from his holiday. Everyone is on-board and excited to welcome him back. Easy peasy.

Double bügger. The shop doesn’t have the same type of fish anymore. Out of stock. Maybe in a couple of days. Pet shops do not run out of bog standard gold fish. The staff don’t quite understand the myther we are in. It was The Wife’s idea. I never wanted a pet in the first place.

Luckily the kids were looking at the rabbits.

As I approached to try to explain that Nemo on his return from wherever he had been on holiday (couldn’t think of anywhere that might sound plausible),  had been diverted to another pet shop. It happens all the time. It happened to us coming back from Spain. Story starting to get really tenuous and could unravel spectacularly in public.

The kids are talking to each other. No.1 is looking quite serious. I sense trouble.

“he’s dead”.

“fish don’t go on holiday”.

Monumental mountains of büggery.

No.2 turns to me.

“can we get Nemo’s brother?”

main characters in this blog

I promised to all those involved it would be anonymous. It will be. But my colleagues know the alias I will be using. And some of the material. They even came up with the name of the blog. There won’t be anything incriminating.

My wife is quite concerned. Particularly over the moniker I’ll use for her – The Wife.

I still don’t understand how they work…

Comes from my Northern upbringing. She thinks it continues the objectification of woman kind and signals the inequality and oppression that women still have to fight against. I was just born in a shabby part of the North.

My kids are just very embarrassed. But the mere fact that I am alive is embarrassing. They think they will be called Muppet and Puppet. I think the eldest is starting to work out that it isn’t necessarily because they are cute. I usually refer to them as No.1 and No.2.

Anyone else will have their name changed.

how it all started

I had better explain how this blog actually got off the ground. As I’m not really an internet savvy person. I don’t have a facebook page, tried to set up a twitter account but got confused, i don’t get pinterest, and loading apps on to my phone is still a bit touch and go.

At work I’m one of the few in the team with kids, and when I recount the latest episode or horror stories to the millennials or prospective (younger) parents they just don’t believe me. They suggested I start a blog. Over several lunches we brain stormed it (knocked a few ideas about) and I got convinced I could do it. They obviously realised my digital limitations and bought me a book “how to set up a blog for idiots”. I read it and here it is.

But I’m not sure if I’m using the right software, I only wanted a blog where I could write stuff. It might be a web page format. and now I’ve started and I don’t want to go back. I’m just ploughing ahead. A bit like following the Ikea instructions, you skip a few steps as it’s only a few screws for a small cupboard. before you know it you have to start using the hammer. and then The Wife ushers the kids out of earshot as the language starts to deteriorate. I’m feeling like that. but strangely excited at venturing out into the digital world. hopefully this won’t be as wobbly as our shelves.