10 Things I've Learned As a Parent This Week #2

(Read #1 here)

1.Running out of baby wipes mid-change is scarier than any of the Saw movies.

2.It’s pointless emptying the nappy bin as it will always be full. Always.

3.Joking to your wife that you really appreciate her ‘doing her 49% share of everything’ is definitely not funny.

4.Nothing can prepare you for the first time they poo in the bath. It’s horrific.

5.Trying to find the right position to soothe a crying baby is like trying to find phone signal at a music festival.

6.Some baby bowel movements are like an exorcism – pain – fear – relief. Followed by unbridled joy.

7.The smell of a bad nappy lingers in your house longer than the last few coffee Quality Streets at Christmas.

8.It’s possible to drink that much coffee you can hear your teeth.

9.Few things are sadder than reaching for a bottle of wine from the rack and remembering that’s now where you store the kitchen roll.

10.Nothing brings you back down to earth quicker after a really good gig than cleaning a pair of rancid arses.

(Read #3 here)

I'm a stand up comic and new dad to twins. You can click here to follow me on Facebook where I post all my blogs, memes and other blatherings about parenthood. (Or go to the top right of this page)

Comments

We Have a Winner!

Ladies and gentlemen - some news! One recipient of my newsletter is now the 'lucky' (ahem) winner of an exclusive gig from me IN THEIR HOUSE! And that person is... Lyn Morter! Well done, Lyn! (Btw, if anyone from Ofcom is reading, you can check the legitimacy of this result via the Facebook Live video I did last week.) When I informed Lyn that she'd won she simply said, 'I've never heard of you' and 'How did you get my phone number?' so I'm sure that will be a great gig for everyone. (Only joking. She was thrilled.) Thanks to all of you for entering. But what now, Sam? I hear you screaming at your smartphones. Well, I'll be taking things a wee bit easier through August, spending some much needed time with my family after all the touring. But just like that former Governor of California of Austrian descent, I'LL BE BACK (sorry) in September with more blogs, videos and general waffle. I'm also heading b

The Time I Screamed at my Kids

Before my kids arrived I swore I’d never shout at them. But choosing how to approach parenthood before your kids are born is like a caterpillar deciding what kind of butterfly they’re gonna be while they’re still building the cocoon. ‘I’ll still do loads of charity work, of course. And I’ll be REALLY nice to moths too, even though they’ll probably hate me because I’ll be so bloody gorgeous.’ Theory and reality are like sugar and shit. I’ve raised my voice to my kids more times than I can count. Often just to shout ‘STOP SHOUTING!’ which I’m aware doesn’t set a great example. ‘You should NEVER shout at your kids.’ And that’s fine. In theory. Because everything’s fine in theory. The Slimfast diet is a piece of piss until day two when you’ve had three hours sleep and someone offers you a Wagon Wheel. Of course, I never WANT to shout at them. I love them more than words can describe. But those you love are also the ones blessed with the innate ability to boil your piss q

The Time I Smeared Shit on the Duvet

My wife and I developed our parenting systems through trial and error. One of the earliest rules we’d introduced was that if it was after 5am and one of the babies became unsettled, we wouldn’t waste our time trying to get them back down in their cot - we’d just bring them in with us. After a nice cuddle in our bed, they’d normally settle back down, barring the occasional impromptu fanny gouge or affable bollock kick. (Babies are the most violent sleepers on the planet, easily capable of committing GBH in the middle of reaching for their dummy.) Our twins were six months old. I was fast asleep. At least, the deepest sleep you can get once your kids arrive. My pre-kids sleep used to be the nocturnal equivalent of deep sea diving. Nowadays I’m lucky if I can submerge my toes in a puddle. Early on, my sleep was lighter than a Ryvita biscuit who’d been having it off with a helium canister they’d met on Tinder. Everything woke me up. Some nights I’d just lie there, bewi

Sam Avery

Search This Blog