DorkySon’s ‘Too Big’ Adventure

We’re just back from a fantastic holiday to North America, where we saw a lot of friends and family, enjoyed some great weather, and ate far, far too much. There were many highlights, which I hope to have time to write about over the next week or so, but I thought I’d start by sharing DorkySon’s perspective on things.

On our first full day in Canada, Uncle P offered to take us to see Niagara Falls. DorkyDad had been before, but neither DorkySon nor I had, and I was looking forward to it. I wasn’t disappointed. How beautiful is this?

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Mummies Who Multitask

Black and white photo a family walking along the pavement, with the dad carryong a scooter and the mum pushing a pram containing two children

Another previously published post I’m afraid – life keeps getting in the way of new writing this week! This originally featured on another fab parenting site – The Blog Up North. 

Back when DorkySon was just a few months old, I had a moment. I was walking down the street, and for the first time I felt like I’d really made it as a parent. Why? Because for the first time I was managing to push a pram and drink coffee out of a cardboard cup at the same time.

I must have been watching too many Richard Curtis films, or reading too many chick lit novels, because in my hormone-addled head the definition of a Mummy Who Had Got Her Shit Together was exactly that – someone who could steer her baby while simultaneously sipping a hot beverage.

On reflection though, my pride doesn’t seem so misplaced. The two years since then have taught me that multitasking is one of the most essential parenting skills. “Stop running around” DorkyDad often says to me. But if I wasn’t running around – unloading the dishwasher, while also spooning mouthfuls of cereal into DorkySon’s mouth and squeezing the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I wait for someone at the doctor’s office to pick up – I wouldn’t get everything done. There are only so many hours in the day, and in order to get every item ticked off the to-do list, I often have to do three of them at once. Continue reading

Mummies Can’t Get Sick

white mug, glasses and box of tissues on a bedside table, implying sickness

This was originally published as a guest post on the excellent parenting blog Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy? Thank you to Laura for giving me the opportunity to borrow her readers for the day! 

The DorkyBoys are sick. It is truly a pathetic sight.

DorkySon has created a little triangle of activity to make sure everyone can see how sick he is. First he stands in a corner of the room, swaying slightly and sucking his thumb. Then he walks slowly round my desk, trailing his hippo lovey along the floor behind him and occasionally fixing me with a somewhat baleful look. Finally he comes over, puts his head in my lap and sighs. I rub his hair, give him a sip of juice, and send him on his way to start the whole routine again.

DorkyDad isn’t a whole lot better. “Can I have a lemon tea?’ he croaks at me from the sofa. “Can I have a painkiller?” he whimpers. “Do you think I’ll be well enough to play golf tomorrow?” he asks, sticking his bottom lip out slightly. “Why don’t you Google ‘head cold and golf’ for me…?” Continue reading

Live In The Now: June

Pink blossoms on a blue background with the slogan 'live in the now'

Wow. I’m amazed that it has been a whole month since I put up my first Live In The Now post. For those that missed my May ramblings, the premise is that you try and take a monthly snapshot of your life, and capture some of the details that you don’t take the time to record in photograph albums or baby books. It’s something that the excellent Scribbling Mum started, and if you haven’t checked her blog out I’d urge you to do so.

Anyway, it has been one of those weeks. DorkyDad is travelling, and within five minutes of him getting in a taxi to the airport I’d managed to drop a two-litre carton of milk on the kitchen floor. DorkySon was supposed to be getting a haircut – something that has previously been no problem – but on this occasion he had a meltdown and refused to let anyone near him. In the queue at the bank, DorkySon stuck his fingers so far down his own throat that he threw up all over himself. And today we walked past a toy shop without going in and buying a new truck and so I was rewarded with twenty minutes of screaming around the supermarket, before DorkySon slammed his legs against the checkout counter with such strength that he flipped his pushchair right over and ended up staring at the ceiling. The shock of that, finally, made him shush.

Phew. I feel like the gin and tonic I am sitting sipping has been well earned. Continue reading

Cut, stick, glue! My scrapbooking son.

We are currently working its way through one large Pritt Stick a week. It seems that scrapbooking is the activity of the moment.

DorkySon follows me around the house, chanting “Cut, stick, glue! Cut, stick, glue! Cut, stick, glue!” until I finally give in and sit down with him at the table, a tower of magazines in front of us.

I suspect it may be in his genes, as I spent ridiculous amounts of time and money doing the same thing as a teenager. But while I filled my scrapbooks up with pictures of boybands, carefully cut out from Smash Hits, DorkySon’s tastes are a little more highbrow.

So far he has shredded the entire collection of Lonely Planet magazines that were my birthday present last year. We have to hide the Saturday and Sunday supplements until we’ve read them; otherwise they end up in pieces across the living room floor. Last week I even found myself buying a copy of Top Gear magazine, because I knew it’d have enough pictures of cars to keep DorkySon happy for a whole afternoon. The only publications he won’t cut up are his own Peppa Pig and Bob the Builder magazines… funny that. Continue reading