Went to make my coffee this morning and discovered we had none left!

Looked in our normal coffee stash spot and there was nothing there. Totally freaked out, but managed to fight through the tears and clouded vision to find a fresh pack hidden at the back of the cupboard.

More tears. Happy tears.

Heck of a morning so far, you guys.

Help a mother out

Hey you guys, I have a page over on Facebook and it’s basically just my mum liking my stuff at the moment. That’s all cool with me but I think she feels a bit lonely on her own. Which is not so cool.

I figure if the Tumblr army (you massive, awesome bunch of people, you) descends on the page to join the action then she’ll relax a bit - safety in numbers, and all that. Or she’ll panic with all the strangers flooding her son’s page and run away forever (in real life, because she doesn’t really get technology so the lines blur a bit for her), but I think that first one is more likely.

*touch wood*

Help a mother out, Tumblr? Just don’t break Facebook, ok?!

Our kids only really ever argue if they’re eating, in a car, at a relative’s or friend’s house, showering or bathing, playing on the trampoline, playing in the sandpit, playing on the iPad, playing on the swing, playing with their toys, reading their books, drawing, painting, dancing, singing, when they’re going to sleep at bed time, when they wake up first thing in the morning, when either their mother or I are in the toilet, in the shower, on the phone or trying to chat, and just any time they’re breathing and within 600 square miles of each other. 

So compared to some parents I think we probably got off lightly.

Why don’t parents quit it with the nagging? Here, let me show you.

I did a quick back-of-a-napkin calculation yesterday – of the 20 hours a day that our children are awake my wife and I spend roughly 19 of them convincing them they must (or mustn’t) do something. Using their toothbrush rather than their brother’s sock to clean their teeth, for example. Or not helping the cat finish her breakfast.

We’re not alone of course – parenting is all about getting those little minions skilled up on the basics, right? That’s what we tell ourselves anyway. It’s not that all those infuriating, maddening, ridiculous things they do all day bother us and we just want them to STOP, NOW. No, no – we’re helping them grow.

Anyway, I got to wondering – what would happen if my wife and I shut down our (frankly sensible) demands for a day? I think it would look something like this:

  • They would eat breakfast. Correction – they would *distribute* breakfast. Throughout the house.
  • A full tube of toothpaste would be used at tooth-brushing time. Not a single tooth would be brushed.
  • It wouldn’t mater how warm or cold it is outside, both children would leave the house naked. Blizzard-like conditions? Scorching-hot sun? No problem.
  • Fingers would meet nostrils and the union would never be broken.
  • Pee would be everywhere *but* the toilet. Actually, ignore that one – that happens anyway.
  • The cat would be used as a set of bagpipes at least twice.
  • Snacks would be served and promptly forgotten, followed by demands for new snacks. Which would be promptly forgotten.
  • We would be out of food by 10am.
  • A trip to the supermarket would result in a trolley full of brightly coloured (but ultimately useless) plastic toys and an obscene number of flavoured milk cartons and pottles of ice-cream.
  • The house would be redecorated using the exact colour palette from the supermarket load. Swirling, vibrant pen lines on the walls would be complimented by bold angular slashes across the curtains. No surface would be free of colour, of design.
  • We’d spend the day counting how many times we’ve had to flush the toilet for someone other than ourselves, and estimating the current bacteria levels on little hands. Both totals would be off the charts.
  • Rain, hail or shine, every door in the house would be open at all times.
  • Dinner would not be eaten. Dessert would be eaten until it started coming back up again.
  • Every last drop of shampoo, conditioner, body wash and shaving cream would be used during their shower. Not a single strand of hair or inch of skin would be cleaned.
  • They’d each take a toy to bed. Correction – they’d each take *all* their toys to bed. The discarded snacks would also be gathered up for the bed ‘party’.
  • They wouldn’t get to sleep until ~1am, which coincidentally would be ~1 minute after the iPad battery goes flat.
  • The cat would climb onto our bed that night with lovely breath, sparkling teeth, smelling like a million bucks and completely bald.

On reflection, we’ve decided it’s probably best to keep the nagging levels up at full. You know, for the cat’s sake.