Only 1 day to go…
Only 1 day to go…
From the moment he was conceived, we knew this day would come. I wasn’t sure if his 3 and a half year old mind could handle the concept but I couldn’t wait any longer. To hell with the consequences. Time to man up and hit this thing head on. Sit down son, I’m about to blow your tiny mind…it’s time you discovered the answer to ‘Where did I come from?’
We sat down together and pushed PLAY on the remote. The PARAMOUNT PICTURES logo on the screen dissolves into a real life mountain and the life-affecting title appears…
RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK
I hold my tongue and my breath in eager anticipation of the question I know is about to come…
‘Who dat man in the hat, Daddy?’
And as the silhouetted figure on screen whips a gun right out of a bad guy’s hand with a stinging crack of blinding accuracy, he steps into the light and we see his face for the very first time…‘THAT my boy, is the man you are named after. THAT, is…INDIANA JONES, Dr Henry Jones Jr. His friends call him INDY and it’s time you found out exactly who he is.’
The next hour and a half was one of the most delightful experiences of my whole parenting journey. Getting to watch Indiana Jones in action through the eyes of my son and seeing him feel as much affinity for that character as I did in my own childhood. He laughed and yelled at the screen and knowing full well he couldn’t sit through the whole thing, we forwarded through the plot developing scenes and focused on the action. He’ll enjoy them just as much when he watches it again when he’s older. It was also my job to cover his eyes during the scary moments, a job that was monitored very carefully by my boy who would yell out, ‘Cover my eyes! Cover my eyes!’ at the slightest hint of any atmospheric musical changes. Still surprises me that he didn’t just cover them himself with his own hands, but that’s why I’m the Dad, I guess? (more…)
Seeing our kids grow into little beings, I think back to the days when we couldn’t wait for them to start talking and now that those days have arrived, I wish to god for some SILENCE.
The days of sleeping in are as extinct as the dinosaurs. Even when we take it in turns to crawl out and sprawl one-eyed on the couch, drawing the little critters toward us and away from the bedroom like a human mozzie-zapper, so the other one can get 10 seconds of extra sleep. The screaming, yelling, laughing and crying penetrates the walls and drills into your semi-conscious brain like an incessant woodpecker. And then there’s the noise from the kids.
But now that they’ve found their voices, the questions are coming thick and fast. Not since the advent of TV game show Sale of the Century, has anyone been drilled incessantly with questions by a pint-sized ‘Tony Barber’ (or is that, actual size?). I always knew this day was coming and I felt I was more than ready for it, but I completely underestimated the stamina of a 3 year old’s ability to ask the same question over and over before I went insane.
The FBI and KGB have nothing on a 3 year old and the Chinese water torture is but a drop in the tsunami of banal questioning that’s washed over us on a daily basis.
I’m a product of the X-generation but this kid is definitely… (more…)
Being a Dad is pretty awesome and there’s always a lot of advice and tips that people are always willing to give a first time Daddy-to-be. But there’s quite a few things that nobody ever told me about being a Dad which would have been handy to know in the beginning to properly prepare and psych myself for.
So I’ve compiled a short list of things I’ve discovered myself and am willing to share with any Daddy newbies out there.
Here’s a quick list of 5 things nobody tells you about being a Dad:
The only thing worse than hearing fingernails on a blackboard is having your cheeks, eyelids, lips and nostrils shredded to pieces by tiny razor-like Kruegeresque knives forged in the belly of a dragon at the bottom of a volcano.
Even though babies come into this world vulnerable and defenceless, it only takes a few months before their inherent self-defence ninja skills come to the fore. They may look incredibly cute and adorable lying in your arms as you gently rock them to sleep, but they can incapacitate an elephant simply by totally pinching the sh*t out of the skin on your neck with the strength and accuracy of a Vulcan warrior. (more…)
For a couple weeks now our boy has been exhibiting great strides in independence. Wanting to do many things on his own like climbing the playground equipment, taking himself to the potty or trading blue chip shares on Wall Street.
But today at 3 years and 15 days, our little boy surprised us both when for the very first time in his life he sidled up to my side of the bed at 6:47am to announce…
“Me dress myself!”
A feat even some adults find difficult to accomplish, especially at 6:47am on a Monday. And when my bleary eyes failed me, my hands ran across him in the darkness like a brail Detective novel. Confirming that yes, he’d managed to Houdini his way out of the zip-up onesie, singlet and pull-up he went to bed in and was now wearing jocks, tracky-dacks, a t-shirt and a long-sleeve top. Mind you, the t-shirt was inside out and his right arm was twisted inside the sleeve of his top like an anaconda in a burlap sack, but the evidence was clear. He’d managed it all on his own.
My immediate thrill then turned to despair as I realised my boy is growing up and every day, requires our assistance less and less. And in my moment of self-pity, a sudden thought struck me, ‘Did you have a poo in your pull-ups?’ (more…)