10 Things I've Learned as a Parent This Week #4

1.Parents who tell you their kids 'always sleep right through' are pure dicks.

2.After seven hours straight with babies it’s REALLY difficult to talk to another adult without wanting to squeeze their cheeks and make noises like a lunatic.

3.I don't know what the adult equivalent of Calpol is but I need to get my hands on some.

4.Reflux causes more delays than a Tube strike.

5.Opening picture messages from your wife should be done discretely as they may contain a photo of your son's first actual turd.

6.I've forgotten what the bottom of our laundry basket looks like.

7.Nappy rash can seem worse than it is - my son's rump looked like The Rolling Stones logo all week but he was fine.

8.Nothing makes you feel more middle class than a baby massage class.

9.Shouting 'COOL DOWN YOU BASTARD' at a bowl of baby porridge has little or no effect.

10. Failure to tie both ends of the bag inside the nappy bin properly will result in a world of hurt for you and your family.

(Read #5 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

Anonymous said…

Hublot wrist watches tend to be acclaimed for his or her various rolex replica which arranged all of them very far through abounding additional types of wrist watches. Every fake hublot is done having a turning deejay agreement that's dependable as well as replica watches sale. It offers the hublot replica actual individual by having an recommend method to admeasurements period. The actual suitable view has got the hr fight hublot replica out which orbits concerning the strong history. The actual rolex replica obvious utilizes hard disks rather than this particular recognized method of creating wrist watches. The actual custom tag heuer replica watches for sale tend to be the best options associated with reproduction wrist watches on the web.

10 November 2016 at 09:10

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

The Time I Got Sent to the Naughty Step

The naughty step is only as powerful as the child allows it to be. I once sent my son there and 20 seconds later he came racing through the living room on his fucking bike. I briefly tried to return him to his pleasantly carpeted penitentiary but I was far too busy giggling. On another occasion, my lad wouldn’t go to bed and instead plonked himself down on the bottom of the stairs in defiance. I started to threaten him with a trip to the dreaded step of naughtiness. ‘IF YOU DON’T GET TO BED RIGHT NOW, I’ll, erm….’ I tailed off as I realised he was already sitting on the effing naughty step and my threat now made less sense than Welsh hip-hop. I could see on his little face, he’d worked this out too. He threw me a smirk that said, ‘You’ll do what, knobhead?’ I felt it crucial not to back down. So I continued: ‘I’LL PUT YOU ON THE NAUGHTY STEP, YOUNG MAN!’ ‘But I’m already on it!’ he snorted. My brain turned to scrambled egg. ‘WELL THEN!’ I had nothing. Bu

Sam Avery

Search This Blog